Demons
by SGAFan
Summary: When a routine mission goes horribly wrong, Major John Sheppard survives, but now must face an enemy none of his training or experience could prepare him for himself. Suddenly, John is forced to question everything he's ever stood for.
1. Book I Chapter I

_I'm pleased to post this story online, after a year of it being the exclusive property of my zine publisher. This was probably the most ambitious writing project I ever undertook, (although my new project will probably wind up challenging this one LOL) and while I occasionally pulled my hair out at parts of it, one of the most rewarding things I've ever done. _

_Over a year of my life I spent writing this story; about 14 months actually. The biggest challenge I ran into was finding my muse again, once I'd finished it. I honestly was lost for a while but managed to find a project to ease me back into writing again._

_Part 1 - Capture_

_Observe your enemies, for they first find your faults.  
Greek Proverb_

"What have you got, Rodney?" Elizabeth walked the short distance from her office to the control room, and stopped behind the Canadian doctor. She looked down at one of several laptops lined up in front of him, before glancing back at John who had followed her from her office.

Rodney waved at the active wormhole. "We were doing a routine reconnaissance of planets with addresses in the Ancient database." He pointed at the laptop display. "The MALP sent this reading back from M27-194." He looked up expectantly.

"Since you barged into Elizabeth's office and demanded our attention, I'm going to assume this means something?" John arched an eyebrow at the display.

"Of course it means something!" Rodney sighed and tapped several keys on the laptop. The image on the screen changed, with the MALP reading on top and another, similar, wavelength on the bottom. "This reading," he pointed at the bottom wave, "is an energy reading from the Zed PM we had at the Ancient Outpost on Earth. This one," he pointed at the upper wave image, "is what the MALP is sending back to us from M27-194."

Elizabeth glanced at John, his confused expression matching hers, before giving Rodney a blank look.

"And?" John prompted with a slight shake of his head.

"Isn't it obvious?" Rodney shot back, "or do I have to spell it out for you?"

"That'd be nice," John smiled smugly, "for once."

Elizabeth sighed, briefly wondering if she was an expedition leader, or a Cub Scout Den Mother. Sometimes she really thought it was the latter. "What," she firmly headed off any retort, "are you saying, Rodney?"

Rodney's expectant expression intensified. "They're nearly identical signals?" When they both stared back at him blankly, his sigh reached martyred proportions. "There may be a Zed-PM on M27-194!"

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Rodney, are you certain?" She glanced at John. All the humor was gone from his face, his stare intent.

Rodney shook his head in frustration. "I don't know for sure. At the very least, it's a powerful energy source, and worth checking out."

"How far from the gate is it?" John's voice was thoughtful.

Rodney punched a few more keys on the laptop. "About a half mile or so. The immediate area around the gate seems to be clear, but MALP readings indicate dense vegetation and trees surrounding the clearing." He sighed in resignation. "We could get through the gate with a Jumper, but I doubt we'd get far before we'd have to get out and walk."

"On foot then." John smiled playfully at Rodney. "The walk will do you good." 

"Funny." Rodney grimaced.

John ignored his reply and turned to Elizabeth. "We should go and at least take a look."

Elizabeth raised her hand. "Just a second, Major." She turned her attention back to Rodney. "What other telemetry readings are being sent back by the MALP?"

"If you mean, is there any sign of sentient life? No. Not within the MALP's scanning range, anyway," Rodney responded. "The atmosphere is similar to that of Earth. I can detect no immediate dangers." He shrugged.

Elizabeth folded her hands behind her back and crossed the command deck to stand at the railing. After a moment, she turned back around and nodded at John. "Alright, you have a go. Just be careful, Major."

"Aren't we always?" John nodded and smiled, before lightly tapping Rodney's shoulder. "Let's go." He reached up and activated his headset as he headed for the back stairs, Rodney right behind him. "Teyla, Ford, meet me in the armory in five minutes. We have an off world mission to investigate a power source."

Not ten minutes later, John returned, with Teyla, Ford and Rodney only a step behind. They all were dressed in full gear, except for Rodney, who only carried a side arm. He had two padded cases thrown over his shoulder and a backpack. John stopped next to Elizabeth and smiled at her concerned expression. "If it makes you feel better, I'll take Bower and Cooper with us to watch the gate while we investigate this."

Elizabeth nodded and walked next to John as they all descended the stairs to the Gateroom.

John paused on the landing and smiled at the two soldiers who were stationed there. "Bower, Cooper, feel up to a little off world excursion today?"

They nodded, eager to break up the monotony of guard duty. "Yes, sir," both men answered in unison.

"Good. You're with us." John skipped down the stairs and crossed the Gateroom with the rest of the team flanking him. Without breaking stride, he raised his P-90 and stepped through the wormhole.

---------------------------------

John emerged from the wormhole and looked around. Dwarfed by the huge trees surrounding it, the Stargate stood on the edge of a large clearing. Holding his P-90 close, he walked straight forward as Ford, Bower and Cooper fanned out, each surveying the area thoroughly before signaling the it was clear. John lowered his gun as Teyla and finally Rodney came through the gate, which immediately disengaged. "Which way, Rodney?"

Rodney pulled out his Life Signs Detector, touched a few buttons, and turned in a circle. He stopped, facing slightly left of the gate and pointed. "That way."

John nodded. "Bower, Cooper," he glanced at the sergeant and the corporal, "you have gate duty. I doubt we'll encounter anything, but maintain radio silence unless you get two clicks from me."

Bower nodded brusquely. "Yes sir." He took position next to the DHD while Cooper walked back to the gate.

John looked off in the direction Rodney had pointed, spying a narrow path through the trees. "Okay, let's go. I'm on point. Ford, take our six. Let's find out what this is all about."

They set off through the woods, following the path, which Rodney indicated seemed to head in the general direction they needed to go.

John scanned the woods around them as the trail gently curved to his right. Before long, the path widened into a large grove, dominated by a tall, black obelisk. "I think we found what we're looking for," John commented.

"A grove with a tall, black, unnatural column in the middle of it. Wonder how you figured that out?" Rodney commented sarcastically as he walked up to the obelisk.

John stared for a moment at the obelisk. It kind of reminded him of the Washington Monument. About ten feet tall, black and shiny, it looked to be made of polished stone. Two sides were lined with intricate carvings, loosely resembling Ancient runes, while the other two sides were unmarked. John slowly walked around the column, his gaze taking in every detail. He ran his hand over a long string of runes on one side. "Isn't this Ancient?"

Teyla looked over his shoulder. "It is similar." John and Teyla both stepped back as Rodney walked in front of them and squinted at the writings.

"Hmm… yes, Interesting. There are some elements of Ancient, but its definitely not one of the known dialects. It'll take me a bit to decipher it."

John tore his gaze from the obelisk and looked at Rodney. "Is this the source of the energy readings?" His eyes narrowed at the confused expression on Rodney's face. "McKay?"

"Yes…." Rodney's voice trailed off as if he'd left his sentence unfinished.

"But?" John leaned slightly towards Rodney.

Rodney sighed. "Well, if it's a Zed PM, and I stress if, then why isn't there some console here where we can gain access to it?"

"Good question." John's gaze narrowed. "What else?"

Rodney shrugged. "It's old. And when I say old, I mean… old. Thousands of years old."

John scanned the obelisk again. "It doesn't look that old."

Without looking up from his LSD, Rodney nodded. "There's something in its construction, in its design, that's incredibly resilient."

"And?" John prompted.

Rodney's expression turned sour. "What? I just started scanning it. It's not like I can pull the answers out of my ar…."

"McKay!" John interrupted.

Unfazed, Rodney shrugged out of his backpack and pulled out his data pad. He quickly connected the device to his LSD and tapped a few buttons. "The energy reading I'm getting from this structure matches the one we received from the MALP."

"But?" John arched his brows.

"Will you stop already? When I'm ready to finish my thought, I'll let you know!" Rodney turned and walked around the obelisk, muttering under his breath.

John took Rodney's rant in his stride as he glanced around the grove. Something quietly nagged at him, but he couldn't really place it. The whole situation felt slightly off to him, and his instincts made him uneasy. He fixed Rodney with a direct look. "McKay, is there anything useful here?"

Rodney's shoulders sagged, his arms dropping to his sides. He glared at John. "We've been here all of five minutes, and you expect me to answer that?" He pressed a few keys on the LSD. "I told you. When I know something, I'll let you know!"

John pursed his lips. "You have thirty minutes."

"What? Thirty minutes is hardly…."

"Thirty minutes!" John raised his voice slightly, cutting off the doctor. He matched challenging expressions with Rodney, arched his brows and glanced at his watch. "Twenty nine minutes."

Flashing him an irritated look, Rodney sighed. "All right, fine. I get the point!" He turned and once more scanned the obelisk.

John walked over to where Ford stood guard. "Lieutenant."

"Sir, everything seems fine." Ford glanced over his shoulder at a muttering Rodney, before looking back at John. "You think that thing could help us?"

"Don't know," John replied, his gaze scanning the grove to the opposite end where Teyla stood. He checked his watch. "McKay's got 25 minutes to figure that out."

"Yes, sir." Ford once again scanned the trees.

John paced the grove, his attention alternating between watching around them and looking at the obelisk and his watch, as the allotted time slowly passed. Finally, John walked up behind Rodney. "Well?"

Rodney continued scanning the obelisk, refusing to turn and face him. "Major, half an hour is hardly enough time! I don't know anything yet."

John sighed, glancing around. The woods seemed peaceful, but the nagging unease still whispered at him, its foreboding effect demanding his attention. It wasn't rational, but long experience had taught John to listen to his gut. "I have a bad feeling about this. We'll have to come back." John waved at Ford and Teyla, who started back across the grove towards him.

"Major…."

"Now, McKay." John added a hint of command to his voice, but Rodney paid it no heed.

"Major." Exasperated, Rodney turned to face him. "You can't just…." Rodney's voice trailed off, his eyes widening as he stared at the LSD.

John's unease intensified as he stared at the doctor's shocked expression. "Rodney?"

"What the hell is that?" Rodney whispered. His attention was fixed on the LSD as he slowly walked around John.

John turned and followed behind. "What?"

Rodney stopped in his tracks and pointed into the trees. "There's a second energy source… that way." He stared hard at John. "I caught just a piece of its signature when I turned around."

John reached out, grabbing Rodney's arm. "Wait. I don't like this." He glanced over at Ford. "Lieutenant, you're with me. Teyla, Rodney, stay behind us."

Side by side with Ford, John slowly stepped through the trees. He reached out, parted some branches and looked down, his attention drawn to a small, spherical, black machine anchored firmly into the ground. A faint red light on the surface blinked silently.

John turned around. "McKay?"

Stepping through the trees, Rodney paused and stared silently at the machine. "There's definitely an energy reading emanating from it," he commented as he glanced first at his data pad and then the LSD.

"At us?" John eyed the sphere warily.

"No. The signal is directed into space." Rodney shook his head. He tapped a few keys on his LSD and hesitated. He stared at his diagnostic screen in confusion. "This makes no sense."

John stepped around the sphere and glanced down at the display. "What?"

"The reading, it's not that strong. I don't see how it could go very far into space." Perplexed, Rodney shook his head.

"Didn't the MALP pick this up?" The bad feeling that had been lurking in John's gut began to grow, and he looked around, his instincts sharpening.

"It wasn't here when the MALP scanned the planet initially," Rodney insisted. "In fact, it wasn't here when we entered the grove, or I would've detected it. It's like something triggered it after we arrived. I didn't detect it until I turned around to talk to you. It can't have been active that long."

John looked around warily. His voice took on a deeper, serious tone. "Rodney, you have ten seconds to convince me not to high tail it to the gate and get the hell out of here."

"Doc?" Ford squatted on the far side of the sphere. "There's some writing of some kind over here."

Rodney walked around and looked over Ford's shoulder. "Think you could move out of my way?"

Ford sighed, glared briefly at Rodney, and stepped out of the way. Rodney peered intensely at the markings. Abruptly his eyes widened. "It's Wraith." His jaw dropped as realization hit him. He looked in the direction of the obelisk, then back to the sphere. "Fake," he whispered. "The energy…," he shook his head. "Fake."

John tensed, his hand unconsciously tightening on his P-90 at the open shock and confusion on Rodney's face. "McKay, full sentences here. What's Wraith?"

"The transmitter!" Rodney pointed emphatically at the spherical device, before he drew in a deep breath. "I don't think the energy reading we were detecting was really an energy reading at all, but designed to make someone think there's a powerful energy source here, when there's not. The faint energy signal I picked up just a minute ago was this transmitter! Somehow we activated it, and it sent a beacon into space." Rodney's unfocused eyes darted around, their movement mimicking his racing mind. Abruptly, his gaze focused on the knuckles of his left hand. Slowly, he turned his hand over before looking up at John

John cocked his head warily, and stared back at Rodney's alarmed look. "What?" 

"We touched it," Rodney whispered.

"Rodney! Bottom line this for me!" John interrupted forcefully.

"Don't you get it?" Rodney's voice took on a slightly panicked tone and raised in volume, "The obelisk has a variation of Ancient writing on it! That means it could be ATA technology! We both have the gene, and we both touched the obelisk when we first found it! That must've initialized it, and sent a signal to this transmitter to activate it! That's also why the energy reading the MALP detected didn't exactly match what we had on file!"

"Rodney…." John's confusion deepened as he tried to keep up with what Rodney was thinking.

Rodney shook his head. "The obelisk is a lure. It's a trap. And since the bait is powerful energy readings, and ATA technology that only someone with the Ancient gene can activate, it must've been designed specifically to lure and capture Ancients. There isn't a Zed PM here…. It's all a ruse." He pointed emphatically at the Wraith transmitter. "The signal coming from this transmitter was weak… too weak to go far in space, but if there is some sort of Wraith relay device that picks it up…." His voice trailed off.

"I don't like the sound of that," John muttered. He clicked his radio call button twice.

"This is Bower, go ahead sir."

"Sergeant, the Wraith could be alerted to our presence here. Dial Atlantis and keep a sharp eye out. We'll be back to you in about fifteen minutes."

"Yes, sir."

John raised his P-90 and scanned the area around them. "Okay, we're getting out of here. I'll take point, Ford, take our six, and keep your eyes open, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir," Ford replied, following behind the single file line as John set off at a brisk trot, leading his team back down the narrow, wooded path.

"Why would they design something so weak and use a relay? Why not just have a transmitter capable of sending a strong enough signal?" Ford wondered aloud as he ran behind Teyla.

"Obviously, they thought if the signal was weak enough, whoever was here wouldn't detect it... and I wouldn't have, if I hadn't turned around at that moment to talk to the Major," Rodney replied.

John held his P-90 close and scanned the woods around them. In his gut, everything felt wrong, and he had the distinct impression there was a target on his back. His squawking radio grabbed his attention.

"Major! We have gate activity!" 

John stopped in his tracks, his hand flying to his radio. "Bower? What's your situation?"

"We were unable to dial out before we were blocked by an incoming wormhole." Bower's tense reply was almost immediately followed by gunfire. "Wraith! Major, we have Wraith coming on foot through the gate!"

John took off, running down the shadowed path. "Copy that, Sergeant. Hang in there, we're on our way." 

"Sir! We have ten, maybe twelve, Wraith here! We'll hold as long as we can!"

"Negative!" John leapt over a small log, "You and Cooper fall back before you're overrun!"

"Yes, sir!" Bower immediately responded. "We… what the hell?"

John lengthened his stride, raw determination fueling him. "Sergeant? Report!"

"Sir, a Wraith just came through the gate, he's… different. I can't…. No!" Bower's voice took on a panicked note.

"Sergeant!" Fueled by the desperation he heard in Bower's voice, John pushed his burning leg muscles even harder. "Bower, talk to me! Bower!" 

"Sir…." Bower's voice was strained and filled with pain, "I can't… he's in my head! Forcing me… can't resist… can't get away…." Bower's voice trailed off into a strangled cry, which morphed into a pain-filled scream.

John stumbled to a stop, his chest heaving in exertion. He'd heard a scream like that before. It was the scream of a human being fed upon by a Wraith.

He closed his eyes for a moment and pushed down his emotion, his hatred… the familiar pain that plagued him when he lost someone under his command. He looked around, momentarily debating risking trying to contact Cooper on the radio. Despite the risk, John needed to know if the Corporal was alive before planning any sort of escape. He clicked his radio twice and paused, waiting for a response. Exasperated, he sighed loudly. "Damn it."

"Major?" Ford's voice grabbed John's attention. "What now?" 

"We don't know what's happened to Cooper." John's voice was grim. Deep down, he knew there was little chance the young corporal was still alive. He glanced at Ford, whose expression mirrored that thought.

To his credit, Ford just nodded. "Yes, sir."

"We go in quietly," John continued. "Whatever Bower was talking about, this different Wraith, we need to know about it… and we have to find some way to get through the gate." John slowly walked forward, his feet silently finding the path as the others followed behind. "Let's go."

He looked around, scanning the woods for any signs of trouble. He took a deep breath and pushed his senses outward, listening… feeling for anything threatening. Every rustle of leaf, or scamper of small animal, he noted. His combat training kicked in, smothering uncertainty, fear and hesitation under cool, controlled and calculated prowess. As a pilot back on Earth, he'd had scant opportunities to use that training; since coming to Pegasus, and leading teams off world, often into the unknown, he'd had plenty of opportunities to hone those skills. Knowing how to take care of yourself and your people, and how to survive in life or death situations, was like riding a bicycle… you never forget it. His reactions and frame of mind were almost habitual, and he felt like he'd been a combat soldier all his life.

As he approached the gate, he lowered himself to all fours and waved for the others to do the same. He crept forward and peeked through some thick underbrush at the immediate gate area.

A dozen Wraith milled around in front of the gate, but John paid no heed to them. His gaze was fixed on a tall, lithe Wraith male standing next to the DHD. He was hard to see in the growing darkness, but John instantly recognized something different about him, though he couldn't place exactly what. John tore his eyes from the unusual Wraith and scanned the area. "I don't see Cooper." His gaze fixed on a prone figure not far from the DHD. He shook his head slightly, his gut clenching at the sight. "They got Bower though." He scanned the clearing, searching for a tactical advantage.

"What the hell is that?" Ford whispered.

Knowing the Lieutenant meant the tall Wraith, John just shook his head. "I don't know. I've never seen a Wraith like that before." A quiet rustling in the bushes behind them grabbed his attention. He quickly turned, bringing his P-90 to bear. Glancing at Ford, he jerked his head left.

Ford nodded and crawled away.

John raised a finger to his lips as his gaze passed between Rodney and Teyla. Slowly, he crawled away from them, in the opposite direction to Ford.

Kneeling near a thick stand of bushes, he held his gun ready as a figure crawled out in front of him. Instantly, he pressed his P-90 to the head of the figure, which stiffened and froze.

John squinted hard for a moment before lowering his gun. "Cooper?" he whispered.

Cooper's shoulders sagged and a quiet sigh escaped his lips. "Major. Glad to see you, sir," he whispered as he looked over at John.

John raised his hand, waving off Ford, who had materialized seemingly from nowhere.

Ford looked at Cooper and smiled.

John's eyes scanned the blood on Cooper's forehead. "You okay, Corporal?"

Cooper nodded. "Just a scratch, sir." He swallowed hard. "Bower's dead."

John started crawling back towards Rodney and Teyla's position. "I know."

Cooper crawled along behind John. "I couldn't help him, sir. The Wraith guards were closing in around me, and Bower… Bower was dying. We were on opposite sides of the gate when the Wraith came through. There was no way I could get to him. I was forced to fall back or be captured."

"You did the right thing, Cooper," John reassured. "Don't blame yourself."

"Yes, sir." Cooper's voice was uncertain, but he fell silent.

John looked back. "Why didn't you answer me on the radio, Corporal?" 

"I heard your clicks, sir," Cooper whispered, "I was too close to the Wraith to risk communication." 

John nodded. "Understood." He paused as he approached Rodney and Teyla. "It's us," he whispered, watching as both relaxed their weapons. He pointed over his shoulder. "We found a friend." 

"Cooper!" Rodney's eyes widened. "We thought you were dead."

"McKay!" Ford whispered incredulously.

"What?" Rodney glared at Ford.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Cooper replied sarcastically.

"Corporal…," Rodney started, but was cut off by John.

"Stow it, McKay," he whispered as he reached up and quietly parted a few branches in the thick underbrush. He once more peeked through the bushes at the gate and the Wraith. "We have to draw them away from the gate somehow, then double back and get through." He sighed and glanced over at Cooper… and the high-powered gun he carried. A humorless smile settled on John's face. He looked at each member of his team. "Okay, here's the plan. Cooper and I are going to draw the Wraith away from the gate. Chances are, a couple will remain to guard it, but nothing more than you can handle, Ford… Teyla…. I hope." John flashed Ford a grim look. "Lieutenant, you, Teyla and McKay make for the gate, take out whatever Wraith you have to, dial Atlantis, and get home. Cooper and I will double back and come through after you."

"Sir," Ford objected quietly, "let me go with you and Cooper. Teyla and McKay…."

"Negative. You've seen the obelisk, and you tactically know what's going on here. I'm ordering you to get back to Atlantis with Teyla and McKay."

"Major…," Teyla started.

"No, Teyla." John fixed her with a no nonsense stare.

"Major we shouldn't split up," Rodney protested, his voice trailing off as John raised a hand.

"That's enough, all of you." He fixed each of them with a stern glare. "There's no other way to do this. I'm ordering the three of you to go through that gate once Cooper and I draw the Wraith away. The discussion is closed." After a tense moment, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly. "Cooper and I will be right behind you. Be careful."

"You too, sir," Ford replied.

John quickly checked the load on his P-90. "Wait here until we've drawn the Wraith away. Then go."

Ford still looked on the verge of objecting, but he just nodded. "Yes, sir."

Glancing over at Cooper, John nodded once. "Let's go, Corporal."

They slowly made their way through the underbrush, circling the small clearing, until finally they were on the opposite side of the gate from where Ford, Teyla and Rodney waited. John lowered himself to all fours again and glanced at Cooper. "You ready for this, Corporal?"

Cooper silently prepared his weapon and looked over at John. "Yes, sir."

John smiled slightly at the confidence in the young soldier's voice. "Okay. On my lead." He crawled forward, and peered through the underbrush.

Not ten feet away, a Wraith guard stood silently, his stunner ready, as he watched the clearing.

John took a deep breath, the familiar adrenaline rush of combat sharpening his senses, and switched the P-90 to single shot mode. He pulled his legs under him and slowly tightened his index finger around the trigger of his gun. Quickly, noiselessly, he stood and squeezed off three shots directly into the Wraith guard's head. It was dead before it hit the ground. Nearby, other Wraith rushed towards John, and stunner blasts crashed into the bushes around him.

He dashed past the dead Wraith and took cover behind a nearby tree. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed Cooper do the same thing about twenty feet away. He switched his gun back to full automatic, knelt and slid around the tree, his back pressed hard against the trunk. Raising his gun, he squeezed off several rounds into a nearby guard, before quickly ducking back behind the tree as a stunner blast hit it right where his head had been only a moment before.

He shook pieces of bark off his face and looked over at Cooper, who leveled another guard with several shots from his powerful gun. "Fall back!" John pointed emphatically at the woods.

Cooper nodded and dashed back towards the thick underbrush as John stepped out from behind the tree and laid down covering fire.

A stunner blast zipped by him and crashed into the bushes as he ducked back behind the tree, his skin tingling from the near miss.

From the underbrush, bullets sped past him as Cooper returned fire. Wasting no time, John dashed into the bushes and slid to a stop next to the Corporal. He turned and looked back, watching as the Wraith slowed their headlong dash and continued at a more cautious pace. 

Checking his ammo, John looked up at Cooper. "Take out the lead guard." 

Cooper nodded and squeezed off several shots into the chest and head of the lead Wraith, who crumpled to the ground. 

John arched a brow. "Nice shooting, Corporal. How are you set for ammo?"

Without looking at him, Cooper continued to watch the Wraith, who had stopped their advance. "Half a mag left here, sir, and one more in my vest. Full clip plus one extra for my nine mil."

John nodded. "Same here. Shooting the lead guard bought us a few minutes, but they won't wait long. They're going to come after us sooner instead of later." His calculated gaze shifted to the Wraith. "We're going to do this fifty feet at a time, Corporal. You go first, find a defensible spot, and give me two clicks on the radio. Then lay down cover fire, and I'll fall back another fifty feet beyond that and do the same for you. Understood?"

Cooper nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Can you see how many are left at the gate?"

"There's seven out there, sir, two are dead, so that leaves three, including that… weird one, still at the gate."

John nodded in agreement. "Ford and Teyla should be able to take them out and get through the gate." His gaze narrowed as the seven Wraith guards once more advanced on them. "Okay, time's up. Get going. I'll cover you."

"Yes, sir." Cooper nodded and quietly made his way through the brush.

John opened fire, spreading his shots in a wide dispersal, hitting as many Wraith as possible. Five fell, while the other two dropped to the ground and returned fire.

He ducked as stunner shots piercing the brush around him. He glanced up, unsurprised to see all seven Wraith stand and slowly advance again. He'd never kill any of them if he didn't concentrate fire on just one, but killing them was secondary right now. Their objective was to escape. Just slowing them down was good enough. Once again, he pulled his legs under him as his radio clicked twice. There was a moment of silence, before gunfire echoed off the trees as Cooper laid down covering fire.

Wasting no time, John turned and crashed through the brush, leaving the Wraith behind him.

And so it continued. Fifty feet at a time, John and Cooper drew the majority of the Wraith away from the gate. Fifty feet at a time, they put distance between the Wraith and the rest of the Atlantis team, buying them the chance to get away. A dozen times, they repeated the process, each one covering the other's retreat, and gradually circling back towards the gate. The Wraith pursuing them numbered five now, with two finally taking enough hits to go down and stay down.

On the twelfth retreat, John's chest heaved with exertion as he stopped next to Cooper. "Ammo?"

Breathing equally hard, Cooper shook his head. "Half… a mag, sir."

John nodded. "That's enough. I'm guessing we're about 200 yards from the gate by now. We've ambushed them enough times that they're going to be pretty cautious following us for a while. Ford, Teyla and McKay should be through to Atlantis. Come on, let's circle around and make a run for the gate."

Cooper nodded. "Yes, sir."

John turned to his left and started through the brush, anxiously hoping his plan had worked.

--------------------------------

There was nothing about any of this that Ford liked. He stared through the brush, waiting for the Major and Cooper to ambush the Wraith, all the while resisting the urge to go after them. Orders were orders but, deep down, the whole thought of leaving them behind grated on the young Lieutenant.

Abruptly, the silence of the forest was shattered by gunfire and subsequent stunner fire. Several of the Wraith ran in the direction of the gunfire, and Ford counted them hastily as they crossed the clearing. He glanced at Rodney. "That's seven. There were two in the general area of the Major's ambush. That leaves three here." He scanned the clearing, his eyes moving from the gate at one end to the tree line on the other. His gaze settled on the male Wraith and two guards at the opposite end of the clearing.

"The gate's clear. Now's our chance." He shifted his feet under himself and stood, staying in a crouched position. "Come on." He started through the bush, the other two following behind him. 

He led them through the underbrush, moving through the thick foliage as quietly as possible. Before long, he once again stopped and peeked through the brush at the three Wraith, not twenty yards away.

"Ford, we can't just leave the Major and Cooper on their own." Rodney whispered emphatically.

The Lieutenant glanced sideways at him. "We have our orders."

"But…," Rodney's voice trailed off as Ford raised his hand.

"I'm not leaving here without the Major, but what good will it do if we don't' secure the gate? First thing's first." Ford sighed and checked the load on his P-90. He glanced across the clearing, his eyes following the sound of distant gunfire. "The Major and Cooper can't keep this up too long before they run out of ammo. They'll be circling back soon. Let's make sure we have a wormhole to Atlantis when they get here." He looked at Rodney, his expression dangerous. "Okay?" Ford held Rodney's gaze until the doctor nodded.

"Right." 

"Teyla," Ford looked at her, "you and I will ambush and take out the Wraith." He returned his attention to Rodney. "You get to the DHD and dial Atlantis, while Teyla and I keep the Wraith busy." He looked from one to the other as both nodded in agreement. "Okay, Teyla, let's do this. McKay, make a break for the gate when we start shooting. We'll watch your back, so you just think about getting to that DHD… and don't forget to send your IDC."

Rodney's expression turned irritated. "Obviously, Ford. Wouldn't do us much good to splatter on Atlantis' shield now, would it?"

In spite of the grim situation, Ford cracked a small smile at McKay's normal behavior… and the arched eyebrow Teyla directed at him. "Right. Just checking."

"Whatever." Rodney drew his 9 mil and looked expectantly at the Lieutenant. "Well?"

Ford nodded once at Teyla, and the two of them crept forward to the edge of the clearing. As one, they stood and opened fire, their bullets taking the Wraith by surprise.

Ford concentrated fire on one of the guards as, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Rodney sprinting across the clearing. He ducked behind a large stump, deftly avoiding a stunner blast, before rolling to his right and peeking out from behind his cover.

Across the clearing the larger Wraith male was watching Rodney intently. The Wraith raised his hand in the direction of the doctor.

Ford tore his attention from the Wraith and watched Rodney. Nearly to the DHD, he stumbled to a stop, his body tense as if he was fighting something. He staggered forward a step, his movements jerky, as if someone had roped him and was pulling him backwards against his will. Ford once more looked at the Wraith, whose face was dominated by a smug smile. The Wraith turned his outstretched hand, and Rodney staggered back a step.

Ford was confused for a moment at what he saw, but he focused on the task at hand. He stood and opened fire on the male Wraith, who fell heavily to the ground. The Lieutenant glanced at Teyla just in time to see her finish off the Wraith guard. "Let's go!" He waved emphatically at Teyla and the two ran across the clearing.

The chevrons came to life as Rodney dialed Atlantis. Ford allowed himself a small smile as a flush of energy sprang from the Stargate and receded. The water-like event horizon had never looked so good to him.

Rodney waited for them just in front of the Stargate. "Weir radioed back. The shield is down." He looked expectantly past Ford and across the clearing.

Slightly out of breath, Ford nodded. "Good. Go, McKay." He turned and looked at Teyla. "You too."

Teyla shook her head emphatically. "I am not leaving without the Major and the Corporal."

"Me either!" Rodney chimed in.

"McKay…." The retort died on Ford's lips as gunfire grabbed all their attentions. He looked across the clearing, watching as first Cooper, then the Major burst through the underbrush and started across the clearing at a dead run. Ford lifted his gun and glanced at Rodney. "McKay, go. Now!"

Rodney hesitated for a moment then turned and ran through the wormhole.

Looking to his other side, Ford turned his attention to Teyla. "You too, Teyla."

Teyla shook her head and stood rooted to the ground next to him.

"Teyla! Ford!" John's out of breath voice came across both their radios. "Get your asses through the gate now! That's an order!"

Ford moved from between Teyla and the gate. "Go! I'll cover you."

Teyla paused a moment, then nodded. She turned and disappeared through the wormhole.

Never taking his eyes from John, Ford backed up a step. His skin crawled, charged by the closeness of the event horizon, but he went no further. Orders or not, he wasn't leaving without the Major. He watched as Cooper and John continued their sprint across the clearing, each turning occasionally to fire back into the woods. The Lieutenant knew they were using the last of their ammo to try and slow the pursuing Wraith, but he held his fire, waiting… ready to cover their escape. Yet, even though he knew the Wraith were still out of range, he had to fight the urge not to open fire.

A stunner blast ripped through the bushes, striking the ground in front of the Major. It was followed by another… and another, as five Wraith guards emerged from the trees. Ford tensed his grip on his gun, but still he held fire. The Major and Cooper were still too far off for him to fire safely.

"Come on… come on…," Ford muttered, nervousness working its way through his calm training. "Damn." He watched as Cooper, finally out of ammo, tossed his gun to the ground and raced towards the gate. John dropped to one knee behind the Corporal, firing what little ammo he had left to cover their escape. Still a good hundred yards away, it'd be close for either of them to make it to safety.

Ford's eyes widened in shock as Cooper was slammed in the back by a stun blast and crumpled to the ground. Instantly, John's voice came across his radio. "Ford, get the hell out of here," he yelled as he ran towards the fallen Corporal.

A moment of indecision gripped the young Lieutenant but he overpowered it. "Like hell I'm leaving," he muttered as he took a step forward. In that instant, he felt as if his body was on fire. Pain shot through every inch of him, and was quickly replaced by an overpowering numbness. He felt himself fall backwards towards the Stargate in the last instant before he lost consciousness.

------------------------------

John's eyes widened in shock as he watched the Wraith stunner blast slam into Ford's chest, propelling him backwards. Instantly, the young Lieutenant disappeared as the force of the blast sent him through the Stargate. John refocused his attention on Cooper. He reached down and grabbed the unconscious corporal by the vest, and unceremoniously dragged him to a nearby tree for cover.

He peered around the tree at the advancing Wraith and opened fire on the lead guard, dropping him. His aim followed the Wraith to the ground to finish him off. But, he was met with a pitiful clicking sound as he squeezed the trigger. Cursing, John dodged back behind the tree and dropped the now useless P-90. Pulling his 9 mil sidearm, he stood over his unconscious Corporal and emptied a clip into another Wraith guard, who also fell.

Once more taking cover behind the tree, John expertly ejected the empty clip and loaded another. He paused for a moment and stared down at Cooper, before looking across the clearing towards the Stargate. The Wraith male and one of the guards Ford and Teyla had shot were slowly getting up. Beyond them by a good 50 yards, the wormhole remained patiently open, waiting for them. The Wraith male looked at the open gate, and motioned to one of the guards, who headed for it.

John looked at the four remaining Wraith guards, now a scant twenty yards from his position. A strange sense of finality swept through him as the facts of his situation registered in his mind and pushed aside his strong sense of optimism. He once more looked down at Cooper. "We'll never make it, Corporal," he muttered, knowing full well the unconscious soldier couldn't hear him. A feeling of helplessness started in his gut, and spread through him. He'd go down fighting, and take as many of the Wraith with him as he could. But before that, he had one thing he needed to do… one thing to be sure of. He reached for the call button on his radio.

-------------------------------------------

"Where are they?" Elizabeth tore her gaze from the open gate and looked down at Rodney. Her gaze briefly flicked to the retreating stretcher as the medics wheeled an unconscious Ford towards the infirmary. She looked back to Rodney, whose expression was turning desperate.

"If Ford is stunned, then they had to be right behind us!" he yelled up to her. "Keep it open!" Rodney and Teyla stared intently at the open Stargate as Atlantis soldiers rushed into the Gateroom, taking defensive positions around it.

Elizabeth turned to Zelenka. "Keep that shield down. We'll give them a few more minutes."

Zelenka nodded, his eyes wide with fear.

Elizabeth turned back to the gate and stared hard, willing John and Corporal Cooper to burst through it at any time. "Come on, John," she whispered. Her attention was abruptly diverted as her radio crackled to life.

"Atlantis, this is Sheppard. Raise the shield."

John's voice, while out of breath, sounded strangely calm to Elizabeth. Her gaze fixed on Rodney, who returned her shocked expression. Beating her to the punch, Rodney grabbed his headset. "Major! We can't just leave you there!" 

"Elizabeth!" John's calm voice turned strained, and she winced as a loud stun blast echoed across her radio. "Cooper and I aren't going to make it, but there are five Wraith left here who can! You have to raise the shield!"

Elizabeth pulled in a ragged breath and stared down at Rodney, panic rising in her gut.   
"John…." Her wavering voice was pleading, but John would have nothing of it.

"Elizabeth! RAISE THE DAMN SHIELD NOW!"

She heard gunfire and more stun blasts. Her mind raced, searching for some way to help him… but she found none. Bowing her head, she turned and nodded once at Zelenka. She wiped a hand across her face as she looked back at the gate. Guilt nearly overwhelmed her as she watched the shield spring to life. "I'm sorry, John," she whispered, but received no reply. Behind the shimmering impenetrable barrier, one flash bounced off it, as the shield stopped an uninvited guest. The wormhole stayed open a few seconds longer, before disengaging.

"We have to go back now!" Rodney descended on Elizabeth, his voice filled with determination. Standing at his shoulder, Teyla's demeanor was similar.

Elizabeth whirled around, fixing Sergeant Bates with an intense expression. "Bates, get a team together!" She watched as Bates flew down the stairs, grabbing a P-90 from the nearest guard.

Teyla followed right behind Bates.

Elizabeth hastily grabbed Rodney's arm. "Rodney, no!" She looked back at Dr. Zelenka. "Radek! Dial M27-194!"

Zelenka nodded and quickly dialed the DHD.

Rodney looked on the verge of resisting her, before realization dawned on him. The nature of the mission was military, and he had no place in it. Frustration passed over his face as he turned away and stared at the gate.

Elizabeth looked down to the GGateroom as Bates stopped in the dead center and quickly assembled a group of the defending soldiers. She watched expectantly as the chevrons began to light up. But, as the sequence came around to the seventh chevron, the gate whined and went dark. She turned. "What happened?" she demanded.

Zelenka shook his head. "It won't lock."

"They must have an outgoing wormhole established. It's blocking us," Rodney pointed out quietly.

Elizabeth's shoulders sagged as Bates and Teyla ran back up the stairs. She pulled in a long breath and looked to Peter Grodin. "Get Stackhouse up here now." She looked back to Bates, Rodney and Teyla, mustering as much strength and confidence as she could. "Conference room. Five minutes."

------------------------

John dropped his empty 9 mil next to his discarded P-90 and bent over, hastily pulling Cooper's sidearm from the unconscious soldier's holster. He looked around the tree at the advancing Wraith guards before turning his attention to the male Wraith. For the first time, he got a close up look at him.

Although he looked similar to other males John had seen, this one was somehow even more terrifying. He was taller, with tattoos that followed the curve of his left cheek and down his neck, disappearing under his tunic. The sides of his pale, almost white, hair were pulled back from his face, with the rest left to flow off his shoulders and down his back. A feeling of power seemed to radiate from him, and it struck fear and helplessness into John the moment he met the Wraith's dark and foreboding glare.

The Wraith snarled at John and raised his hand.

Fear, helplessness and panic swept over John, and it took every shred of his self-control to keep from crumbling under the assault.

"Stop!" The Wraith commanded, his tone confident.

John's whole body was rigid and unresponsive. He grunted as he struggled to keep his gun aimed at the Wraith, who leered back.

"Drop the weapon," the Wraith hissed.

John gritted his teeth, the gun shaking in his hands, as he fought the Wraith's command. The Wraith's willpower was overwhelming but, from somewhere inside him, he pulled on an untapped well of strength. He arched a humorless eyebrow at the male Wraith and fortified his grip on his gun. "I don't think so." The Wraith's expression turned to one of shock in the instant before John opened fire. He managed three shots before pain lanced through his body. In the back of his mind, he instantly recognized the distinct feeling of a Wraith stunner, and realized one of the guards had finally got a clean shot at him.

His knees buckled as blackness crept over his sight. The gun slipped from his rapidly numbing fingers as he fell, but he never felt himself hit the ground.

-------------------------

Elizabeth took her seat and watched as each member of the meeting filed in and sat around the table… everyone except Rodney, who paced in front of the closing doors.

"Elizabeth, we have to go back." Rodney stopped next to the table and leaned on his fists, staring across it at her.

"We could be charging right into a Wraith ambush for all we know." Sergeant Bates stared coldly at him.

"So we're not even going to try?" Sergeant Stackhouse glared at Bates. "That's not right. The Major would never leave any of us without a fight!"

"The Major wouldn't want us to compromise ourselves or the security of this base either." Bates shot back. "Besides, we don't even know if they're alive."

Stackhouse stood and glared across the table at the head of security. "You can't make that assumption, Bates!"

Elizabeth sighed and knocked quietly on the table, the echo of her actions silencing the two soldiers. She stared intently at Stackhouse for a moment, until he slowly sat down again. She glanced around at each of them. "Right now we can't even establish wormhole back to the planet, so let's not fight about what we can't change. We're all worried about Major Sheppard and Corporal Cooper, but we have to stop and think this through." Her gaze settled on Rodney. "You should sit down." While her words were a suggestion, her tone definitely was not. She held his gaze until Rodney reluctantly settled into a nearby chair.

"Teyla," Elizabeth looked over at the Athosian, "you were the last one through the gate before Lieutenant Ford. What was the situation?"

Teyla leaned forward in her chair. "Lieutenant Ford had just ordered Dr. McKay through the gate, while we waited to cover the Major and the Corporal's retreat."

"I should've stayed with you," Rodney muttered, shaking his head slightly.

"Your presence would not have made a difference, Doctor." Teyla glanced at Rodney before she returned her attention to Elizabeth. "The Major ordered us through the gate. Lieutenant Ford told me to go through and that he would cover me. I thought he was right behind me, but he was not. The last thing I saw before stepping through the Stargate was Major Sheppard and Corporal Cooper running across the clearing towards the gate. They still were a considerable distance from us at that time."

Elizabeth nodded slowly. "We can only assume that either Major Sheppard or Corporal Cooper, or both, were captured by the Wraith, and that Ford was struck as he was coming back through the wormhole." She looked around at each of them, "I want options for finding and rescuing our people."

"Elizabeth, there's more."

Rodney's quiet voice grabbed her attention. Elizabeth slowly leaned forward in her chair and folded her hands on the table. "Rodney?" Her gaze narrowed. "What is it?"

Rodney's intense gaze deepened as he glanced at Teyla, who nodded slightly. "One of the Wraith was.…" He shook his head, groping for the right words.

"Different," Teyla quietly supplied.

Elizabeth's gaze flicked back and forth between them. "Different? How?"

"Telepathic control." Rodney's words carrid a note of conviction, as if he had just reasoned it out.

"Telepathic?" Bates interjected.

"Yep."

The voice, suddenly coming from behind her, grabbed Elizabeth's attention. She looked up, smiling as Ford slowly walked into the room. His movements were stiff, and he winced slightly as he took a chair next to Stackhouse.

"Lieutenant," Elizabeth nodded. "You should be in the infirmary."

Ford shook his head. "No ma'am, I'm okay. It's wearing off."

Rodney gave the briefest of nods to Ford before looking back at Bates. "We know the Wraith have innate telepathic abilities, Sergeant. It stands to reason that some are more telepathic than others. We've seen two... no three different types of Wraith, the "soldiers" the "males", and the "keepers." Who's to say there aren't more? We know next to nothing about Wraith society or any hierarchy." 

"All this is well and good, but the likelihood that the Wraith are even still on that planet is slim," Stackhouse commented quietly, "and if they're not, then we don't have the first clue where to look for them."

"I know, Sergeant," Elizabeth agreed, "but if there's a chance they're still on the planet, we need to do something."

He nodded. "Agreed."

"If we can connect back to the planet, we could try to access the MALP," Bates suggested. "At least we'd be able to see the immediate gate area."

"Teyla, Rodney, how many Wraith were there?" Elizabeth asked.

The two exchanged glances, but it was Teyla that spoke. "There were twelve to start. I'm sure the Major and the Corporal killed at least two, most likely more, Lieutenant Ford and I killed two during our escape." She paused, thinking. "Five…maybe six Wraith were left? Assuming that the Major and Corporal did not kill more of them."

"A strike team, heavily armed, could take them out, ma'am," Bates cut in, "assuming they haven't already called in reinforcements."

"Why would they?" Rodney suddenly spoke. "What reason would they have for staying on that planet? They were there because of us."

"Do you know that for sure?" Bates asked, his tone slightly annoyed. 

"Ohm let's see. We inadvertently activate a large black obelisk, whose sole purpose was to give off fake energy readings. And, oh, look! The Wraith show up right after that. Gee, what a coincidence." Annoyance drove Rodney's voice louder. "Oh, and I forgot! They just activated the Stargate, but didn't leave the planet!" Rodney glared back at Bates.

"All right, Rodney," Elizabeth spoke up, beating Bates to a reply. "You've made your point, but Sergeant Stackhouse is right. If the Wraith aren't there any more, then we have no way to find Sheppard and Cooper."

Rodney pushed back from the table and slowly stood, his expression thoughtful. "That might not be true." He walked behind his chair, tapping absently on its tall back as he passed it, before he slowly started pacing the room.

Elizabeth silently watched him for a moment, her curiosity piqued. "What do you mean, Rodney?" She cocked her head slightly, as he looked at her, his expression distracted. Elizabeth knew the look well. Rodney always wore it when his brain was moving faster than his mouth could keep up with.

"It's just a theory, mind you, but it might work…." He continued pacing.

Elizabeth watched him again, waiting through the silence. "Rodney?" she finally spoke.

With a start, Rodney's eyes widened and focused on her. "The DHD might be able to tell us where the Wraith went."

"What?" Elizabeth felt her jaw drop. She looked around as the others leaned forward and stared at Rodney. "Rodney, what are you talking about?"

"I've taken apart several DHDs." Rodney's pace quickened the more and more he thought. "I've always wondered about the redundancies I've found in them. I assumed they were for reliability, power flow, that kind of thing, but recently, I've started to think about where the circuits were redundant."

"Rodney," Elizabeth shook her head, "I'm not following you." 

"Okay," Rodney's gestures turned animated. "Most of the redundancies lie around the crystals responsible for encoding the gate chevrons."

"All right," Elizabeth nodded, her tone reluctant, "go on."

"So, what if that circuitry was there for a reason other than plain redundancy?"

"Rodney," Elizabeth interrupted, "what, exactly, are you saying?"

"Elizabeth," Rodney's expression turned incredulous as he stopped and faced her. "I think the redundant circuitry could store gate addresses… or at least the last dialed address." He drew in a deep breath and continued pacing. "Think of it sort of like a caller ID for the DHD. I think we may be able to access the last dialed gate address on M27-194's DHD."

"If that's true," Stackhouse interrupted, "then we could feasibly rescue the Major and Cooper."

Elizabeth held up her hand. "Just a minute, Rodney. Wouldn't we erase that address by dialing into the planet's DHD again? 

"No," Rodney pushed a chair out of his way and continued pacing. "The circuits for dialing out are completely independent from the ones responsible for incoming wormholes. They wouldn't be affected by us gating back."

Elizabeth nodded. "Why would the Ancients design something like that?"

Rodney shrugged and continued pacing. "I don't think they did."

"But you just said…. " Bates started.

"I know!" Rodney snapped. "What I mean is, I don't think it's actually designed for this purpose. I don't know. But it doesn't matter! If I'm right, we can find the Major and Cooper."

"It's a long shot," Bates muttered, unconvinced. "For all we know, the Wraith have discovered this, and have a way to get around it."

Rodney stopped and glared at the Sergeant. "Yes, yes! It's a long shot! But right now, it's the only shot for finding them!"

"The question is," Elizabeth interrupted, heading off Bates' reply, "do we return to the planet even to tryi to find the Major and Corporal, and risk encountering this Wraith, or more like him, again?" The response of her people was instantaneous.

Simultaneous protests from Stackhouse, Ford and Bates all blended together, while Rodney's voice rose over the top of the commotion.

"Elizabeth! You can't be serious!"

"Gentlemen!" Elizabeth raised her voice loud enough to silence the men. Her strong gaze jumped between each of them. "I have no intention of abandoning Major Sheppard or Corporal Cooper if there is a chance we can save them." She sighed. "That said, we need to consider the ramifications before we act."

"Elizabeth," Rodney interjected, "If this is some different sort of Wraith with telepathic powers we think we're seeing, at the very least we need to learn more about him."

Elizabeth stood and slowly circled behind her chair, her arms crossed in front of her. Silence permeated the room as she considered their choices and the consequences of each.

Finally, she nodded. "Okay, Rodney. If the MALP readings come back clean, you have a go."

"Well, ah, there is one problem here," Rodney interrupted.

"Only one?" Bates muttered. He stared evenly back at Rodney's annoyed glare.

"What is it, Rodney?" Elizabeth stood behind her chair, her hands resting lightly on the back.

Rodney slowly sat down, before leaning forward and resting his arms on the conference table. "This is all highly theoretical and while I am confident my theory is right and this will work…."

"You have no idea how to do it?" Elizabeth finished quietly.

"Right." Rodney's shoulders sagged. "Once we 'gate onto that planet, I'm not certain we can 'gate off until we've retrieved the address without losing it permanently."

Elizabeth sighed. "I don't like the idea of stranding a team on that planet, unless you're confident you can do this, Rodney."

McKay perked up. "Of course I can do…."

"And that you know exactly **how** to do it," Elizabeth interrupted. She arched an eyebrow at McKay, and he nodded silently.

"The longer we wait, the less chance we have of finding them," Stackhouse commented quietly.

"True, but whether we wait here, or on the planet, we still have to wait until McKay figures out how to do this. I for one would rather be here, where it's secure," Bates replied.

"Ma'am," Ford spoke next, "we still haven't determined for sure if the Wraith have left M27-194. For all we know, Major Sheppard and Corporal Cooper could still be there."

Elizabeth nodded. "Which leads us back to re-connecting to the MALP on the planet. Let's find out what we're dealing with. I want MALP telemetry as soon as we can get a connection." She looked at Rodney. "Rodney, get to work on your theory and keep me posted."

She turned her attention to Ford, her expression dubious. "Lieutenant? Has Dr. Beckett cleared you for duty?"

Ford shook his head. "Not really, but I feel fine."

"Just the same, I want Dr. Beckett's word on it. I don't want to see you back here until he says so. If he clears you, then I want you and a team ready to go through the gate if we determine the Wraith, Sheppard and Cooper are still there and if there is a chance we can rescue them. Take Stackhouse and whoever you think you need with you."

"Ma'am," Bates interrupted, "I should…." 

"No, Sergeant," Elizabeth interrupted. "As head of security, I need you here." She stared evenly back at an obviously displeased Bates.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered quietly.

"That's all." Elizabeth watched as they all stood and filed quietly out of the conference room. She glanced at Teyla, who stopped next to her. "I thought Bates and Stackhouse were going to come to blows for a minute there."

Teyla nodded slowly. "Yes. Neither one will accept the possibility that we may never find the Major, or Cooper, but each reacts differently." Concern was etched in her face, but she managed a small smile as she looked at Elizabeth. "The Major is more than their commanding officer, Dr. Weir. He is their leader, and one is different from the other. They do not only follow him because he outranks them, but because he leads them. Even Sergeant Bates," her voice hardened slightly, "respects him, though they do not see eye to eye." Teyla's expression turned painful as she battled her own emotions. "It… will be hard on them, if we cannot find him."

Elizabeth nodded slowly. "Not just on them," she whispered and looked at Teyla, knowing that the pain and concern she saw in Teyla's eyes was mirrored in her own.

-----------------------------

Everything was pitch black at first, and then gray, as John slowly came back to consciousness. His entire body tingled, and his skin crawled, but he knew they were side effects of the Wraith stunner and would pass. He lifted his head, groaning at the pain, and slowly forced himself up, first on one arm and then to a sitting position. He looked around, taking in every aspect of the small cell. It was the same as he'd seen before after the attack on Athos, only this time he was on the other side of the bars. He patted himself down quickly but, as expected, everything that could be a weapon had been taken from him, including his vest and the holster for his side arm. He shook his head, his thoughts drifting back to his last conscious moment on the planet. Waking up here was unsettling to say the least. He had no idea how much time had passed since he'd been stunned, or where the Wraith had taken them. They could be anywhere in the galaxy by now, with no way for his team to find them. He pushed off the thought and latched onto his optimism. They'd just have to find a way to escape on their own.

A soft groan to his left grabbed his attention and he forced himself to his feet, stumbling a few steps over to where Cooper was just regaining consciousness. John knelt.

"Corporal?" he whispered, tapping his shoulder softly. "Cooper, wake up." He cracked a small smile as Cooper's eyes opened.

"Major?" Cooper grunted and lifted a hand to his forehead. "What the hell was that?"

John slowly stood, feeling stronger as the effects of the stun weapon rapidly wore off. "Wraith stunner."

Cooper slowly sat up. "Damn, that hurt."

John nodded. "Yeah. It's my third time through and it doesn't get any better." He grabbed the bars of their cell and pulled on them experimentally. They were rock solid.

Cooper stood. "Major? How are we going to get out of here?" 

"I don't know that yet, Corporal," John turned, fixing Cooper with a penetrating gaze, "but we'll figure something out."

"Where are we, sir?" Cooper looked around at their small cell.

John paced next to one of the side walls, running his hand over the rough but solid surface. "I'm guessing we're on a hive ship. I just hope we're still on a planet with access to a Stargate, and not in space." He stopped, turned and fixed the young Corporal with an intense stare. "There's no way they're going to be able to find us, Cooper. We're going to have to escape on our own."

Cooper stared evenly back and slowly nodded. He glanced at the entrance, his eyes widening. "Sir."

John turned to see a Wraith male and five Wraith soldiers approach the cell. One of the soldiers leveled stunners at the two men while the male Wraith opened the cell, before Two unarmed soldiers and the male walked purposefully towards John and Cooper.

John held onto his confidence and filled his expression with it. "What do you want with us?"

Quicker than he could react, the male backhanded him, sending him sprawling across the room. Before John could stop him, the young corporal had launched himself at the Wraith, only to be sent crashing to the ground next to John.

John exchanged worried looks with Cooper, but anything he had to say was cut off by the Wraith.

"You will come with us," he snarled, glaring coldly at both men.

The two unarmed Wraith crossed the cell and unceremoniously grabbed them both, hauling them to their feet.

John felt like a rag doll in the grip of the powerful Wraith guard, who cruelly twisted John's arm behind his back and clamped down hard on John's neck. John saw stars for a minute before he glanced over at Cooper, who was futilely resisting the other Wraith's grasp. "Cooper," John hissed through clenched teeth, "now's not the time."

Cooper looked at the John and ceased struggling. The other Wraith grabbed Cooper in a similar fashion to John.

His stare cold and frightfully eager, the male Wraith approached John. "A wise decision, human."

John stared back, carefully holding his expression neutral. "Don't look so happy. This isn't over."

But the Wraith only laughed. "You have strength." He smiled widely, showing a full mouth of sharp teeth. "The Master is looking forward to breaking it." The male whipped around, his long hair flowing behind him, and left the cell.

John swallowed hard, pushing down any apprehension he had and replacing it with cold calculation as the guard shoved him forward, keeping him from falling only by twisting his arm harder and lifting him by his neck. Pain coursed through John's body, but he channeled it, using it to fuel his determination. Forcing the pain away gave John control… control he'd use to match wits with the Wraith, and find a way to escape.

They were half dragged and half carried a long way through the ship by the Wraith guards. They turned down one corridor and then another, until John couldn't keep track of their path anymore. The maze of corridors intersected and crossed each other, each looking the same. John tried to pause and look down one corridor, but was forced onward by the vise-like grip on his neck.

Before long, the narrow passageway widened and turned into a large room. At the opposite end, there was a broad table with two female Wraith pacing in front of it. John swallowed hard, contempt wrinkling his features. One of the females made eye contact with him and slowly sauntered across the room. She stopped before him and ran a hand through his hair, before stroking his cheek. He stared daggers at her and tried to turn away, but she grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. She slowly scanned his face, her dark eyes wanton and lustful. Revolted, John glanced over at Cooper, who was enduring a similar treatment from the other female. He saw anger in the young corporal's expression and, before he could say anything, Cooper spat vehemently in the Wraith female's face.

She jumped back as if stung and, snarled at Cooper, before tearing his shirt in half, baring his entire chest. Hissing, she grabbed his shoulder with one hand and raised the other over him.

"No!" John struggled against his captors, but the effort was futile. A knot constricted his stomach and he felt physically ill as he watched the Wraith smile in anticipation.

"Stop."

The female looked up and snarled once, before backing away from Cooper.

John slumped as his female also let go of him and stepped back. The voice echoed through the room, coming at John from all directions, its cold tone bringing dread with it. His eyes darted around the room as he tried to identify the source of the voice. His curiosity was short lived as the Wraith holding him threw him to his knees. He felt blood roar in his ears as the pressure to his neck was released. He pulled his legs under himself and tried to stand, only to be brutally knocked to the ground. He grunted as his shoulder made contact with the hard floor, and glanced over at Cooper, who was being held on his knees by two Wraith guards. Another guard grabbed John's arm and wretched it behind his back, hauling him to his knees. John bit back a groan of pain as his shoulder screamed in protest, but the pain was lost in the voice that echoed around him and in his head.

"You will not stand in my presence, human."

John looked up and once again scanned the room, trying to find the source of the voice. A flicker of movement in the shadows caught his eye and he turned his attention across the room. At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him but, as he stared, a figure silently materialized out of the shadows and into the eerie blue light of the room. It was the tattooed Wraith from the planet. John pushed back his disappointment that this Wraith was still alive. He should've expected it. Three shots from his nine mil were hardly enough to kill any Wraith. _Especially one that's fed recently…._ John's thoughts briefly touched on Bower, but he pushed them away.

"Major?" Cooper's voice shook slightly and, without looking, John knew the young soldier was nervous. Trained to the teeth and hand picked by Sumner, Cooper was a good man to have at your back. It was no small feat to shake his will, but John remembered his own feelings the first time that he saw this Wraith up close. This time, however, he was ready for it. He tore his eyes from the Wraith and glanced at Cooper. "Easy, Corporal." He watched as Cooper pulled a ragged breath through his nose.

"Yes, sir," Cooper responded through clenched teeth.

John looked back at the Wraith as he slowly crossed the room, his movements soundless. He stopped a couple feet in front of John and stared down at him, while the two female sauntered up and stood very close. They also stared down at John, their soft breathing punctuated by the occasional quiet hiss.

"You are Lantean." The Wraith stated bluntly.

John drew in a deep breath and steadied his voice. "I don't know what you're talking about."

With a snarl, the Wraith backhanded him, the force of his blow bouncing John off the guard who held him. Growling, the guard threw John down hard, and he bit into his tongue as his head slammed into the floor. 

"Major!"

John looked up, blinking repeatedly to try and clear his double vision. He felt a trickle of blood meander around his eye and down his face, and he quickly swiped the back of his hand across it. John looked up and saw Cooper was struggling against the guard, his face flushed in anger. John's eyes widened in surprise as Cooper somehow managed to break free. He staggered to his feet and leveled a powerful punch at one of the Wraith females.

The female Wraith fell heavily to the floor, but the Wraith male seemed unfazed. Raising his hand, he spoke quietly, but his voice seemed to echo around them. "Stop."

As if he had hit a wall, Cooper staggered to a stop, his body rigid.

"Corporal!" John croaked, struggling to push himself off the floor.

"Major…. Can't… move…." Cooper's strangled voice was barely recognizable.

John pushed himself to his knees, only to be rewarded by the brutal grip of the Wraith guard, who held him down. Powerless to help, John could only watch.

The male Wraith smiled and pointed at Cooper. "Kneel."

John clenched his teeth in anger, blinking the blood from his scalp wound out of his eye, as he watched the young corporal fight the will of the Wraith. "Cooper!"

"Can't… sir…." Cooper slumped forward heavily as the mental power of the Wraith won out. He fell to his knees, only stopped from falling to the floor by the strong grip of a Wraith guard. The guard grabbed Cooper's short hair and pulled him up straight.

Silently, the male Wraith slowly walked over to face Cooper. He looked down, his cold and calculating gaze meeting Cooper's spiteful one. The Wraith smiled evilly and looked over at John. "I will ask you again. You are Lantean?"

John's racing mind ground to a halt as understanding came to him. Only a pawn in a greater game, Cooper…. Cooper's life hung in the balance between the Wraith and John. John wanted to answer… wanted to say yes, but what would be next? If he answered this question, another would follow. He looked away.

"You are foolish." Looking back at Cooper, the Wraith snarled and slammed his hand into the corporal's chest.

"NO!" John pulled fruitlessly against his guard as Cooper's strangled scream echoed through the large room. "Leave him alone you son of a bitch!"

The Wraith ignored John and stared down at Cooper's pained face.

Cooper's agonized cries tormented John, and he continued to struggle. "Leave him alone! He doesn't know anything! It's me you want!"

His hand never leaving Cooper's chest, the Wraith looked smugly at John. "Yes… you are the one I really want." The Wraith abruptly pulled away from Cooper, who slumped in the guard's grip. Circling the young soldier, passing calculating eyes over him, the Wraith finally returned to stand in front of Cooper once more. The Wraith raised his hand and paused, before slowly looking over at John. "You are Lantean?"

John's expression softened as he swallowed hard and looked down at the semiconscious Corporal. "Cooper?" John's plea elicited a quiet moan from Cooper. In the face of Cooper's torture, John felt his strong grip on his training… his self-control failing.

"Answer me!" The Wraith grabbed the young soldier by the shoulder, his poised hand inches from Cooper's chest.

"Yes, damn it! We're from Atlantis!" John's voice cracked, his failed attempt to keep desperation at bay only angering him more.

Still poised over Cooper, the Wraith sneered at John. "That is good. How many of you are there in Atlantis?"

John looked away, his mind racing. His training flashed unbidden through his thoughts. Before being shipped to combat in Afghanistan, he had been required to take some weeks of POW training. It was that training he now latched onto. In his mind's eye he could see the Special Forces colonel as he circled the small group of pilots….

_By yourself, you have leverage, gentlemen but God help you if you're not. Oh sure, you're full of valor now, thinking 'one life is worth not giving the enemy any intel', but that's a million miles away from the reality of watching your buddy get tortured and die! You won't resist that hell, gentlemen, I guarantee it! I don't give a damn how tough you think you are!_

_Give them something… anything. Don't be macho or you're just asking to be broke… and don't think for one second you won't break when the tortured screams of your co-pilot reach your ears! Your objective is to resist telling the enemy anything they can use, not to give them nothing at all! Tell them something useless, bluff, even lie. But compromise, gentlemen, you have to compromise!_

John looked up at the Wraith, his expression challenging. "Atlantis has a shield you can't beat. It's useless for you to even try." John pulled on as much strength as he could muster and poured it into his expression, strengthening his bluff… and daring the tattooed Wraith to call it.

The Wraith sneered. "That is not what I asked you, human." His poised hand descended on Cooper's chest and he once again fed.

"You bastard!" John fought the guard's strong hold. "I gave you something! Leave him alone!"

Unfazed, the Wraith's smile was chillingly content as he sucked the life from Cooper. He looked at John. "I am only interested in the answers to my questions, human." He pulled his hand away from Cooper's chest. "You can resist me a little, but this one, cannot." The Wraith let go of Cooper's shoulder, and the corporal slumped back against the guard. The Wraith flexed his fingers slightly. "There were Lanteans that could resist my call… I will know why you can also… eventually." Gesturing slightly, the Wraith backed up as Cooper's guard began dragging him away.

John blinked hard, a wave of dizziness washing over him as he was jerked to his feet. Resisting the rough pull of the guard, he stared into the tattooed Wraith's eyes. Outwardly, John's expression was confident, but inside, the reality of what he was facing started to sink in. He began to realize he never had any leverage to start with. Still, he clung to his confident expression and glared back at the Wraith.

The Wraith was motionless for a moment, before he laughed. "I shall savor your strength, Lantean." Leaning in close, the Wraith countered John's confident stare with a cold one. "I look forward to breaking your spirit." He waved once, and a guard grabbed John's neck and forced him away.

-----------------------------------

Elizabeth paused at the top of the stairs leading to the command center and sighed at the two legs sticking out from under Atlantis's DHD console. Faint mumbling could be heard, while an occasional twitch of a foot proved that Rodney was still awake. Her gaze switched to Dr. Zelenka, who was fast asleep, his head resting on folded arms on the console next to the DHD. Quiet snores punctuated his slow breathing.

Elizabeth put her hands on her hips and shook her head. Rodney's ability to function without sleep never ceased to amaze her. For a while, she was sure it was the dozen cups of coffee he seemed to ingest every day, but ever since the coffee ran out, he still operated at full throttle, although he did seem to be more cranky than usual.

Despite the dreary situation they'd been in for the last 48 hours, she still smiled slightly at the thought. Her smile faded. It had been a tense two days since they had managed to access the MALP on M27-194 and found that the Wraith had left. Barely pausing long enough for food, surprising for someone so intolerant to hunger, Rodney had buried himself in the DHD, determined to make his theory work.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, fighting her own frustration. After a moment, she opened them and looked around. Absorbed in their duties, other Atlantis personnel continued working, but there was an air… a feeling of tension that surrounded all of them. Pushing down her frustration, Elizabeth was determined to set an example. Dropping her hands to her side, she calmly crossed the control room and stood over Zelenka. She squeezed his shoulder gently, but the doctor nonetheless started awake. His head shot up as he looked around in surprise, Czech phrases tumbling from his mouth.

"Radek," Elizabeth interrupted him quietly.

"Oh, Dr. Weir. Is it morning?" Zelenka pushed his fingers under his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"It is. Go to bed, Doctor."

"But…."

"The discussion is closed. You can't function like this." Elizabeth shook her head. "Get some sleep." She looked down at the legs protruding out from under the DHD as Zelenka slowly stood and walked towards the stairs. She once more placed her hands on her hips. "Rodney."

Slowly, Rodney pulled himself out from under the control panel and looked up at her. "Elizabeth? It's morning? Huh."

She rolled her eyes before looking back at him. "Yes. I sent poor Dr. Zelenka to bed. Haven't you slept at all in the last two days?"

"No, but I fail to see how that's important in any way," Rodney responded, his tone slightly annoyed.

"Rodney, even you need sleep…."

"Not as much as you think." He grabbed a diagnostic tool and slid back under the DHD console. "I can go days without sleep," his muffled voice continued. "I've been that way all my life."

Elizabeth sighed in resignation. "Fine. Have you made any progress since last night?"

"Yes," he responded immediately, "I think… I just about… have it… there!" He quickly scooted out from under the console and stood up. Pulling one of several laptops closer, he rapidly punched keys and then stood back, gazing at the screen in anticipation.

Figures, symbols and formulas raced across the screen, faster than Elizabeth could tell what they were. Not that she'd understand them anyway. That she left to Rodney and the other scientists. She glanced at his hopeful expression, and assumed the computer was doing what it was supposed to. "Should I be impressed?"

He smiled eagerly and glanced at her. "You will be in a minute, if this does what I think it'll do."

Abruptly, the screen changed, and seven gate chevrons appeared in a row across the middle.

"YES!" Rodney exclaimed, shaking his fist in emphasis. "Bingo!" He pointed emphatically at the laptop screen. "The last address dialed by this gate was M27-194… and that's the address for it! Pulled directly from the DHD!"

Elizabeth smiled broadly and reached for her headset. "Lieutenant Ford, this is Weir. Get Stackhouse and a team together and be in the Gateroom in 10 minutes. McKay has figured out how to access addresses on the DHD."

She smiled warmly at the Canadian doctor. "Good job, Rodney."

--------------------------

Elizabeth slowly descended the stairs into the Gateroom, her eyes flicking over the off-world team quietly milling about. She stopped in front of Ford and Stackhouse, and forced a small smile to her mouth. "The MALP still shows no activity in the immediate area around the gate, but we don't know beyond that." She sighed. "Be careful, Lieutenant."

Ford's smile was grim as he nodded back at her. "Yes, ma'am."

Stackhouse lightly patted the heavy gun he carried. "Don't worry, ma'am. If the Wraith are still there, we're ready for them."

She nodded, her gaze narrowing. "If anything goes wrong, or if the DHD is different in anyway, you're going to essentially be stranded on the planet, until Dr. McKay figures things out. You can dial out at any time, but we run the risk of losing the stored address, and any hope of finding out where the Wraith took Major Sheppard and Corporal Cooper."

"No pressure or anything," Rodney commented as he walked up behind her, several padded carry cases of equipment draped over his shoulders.

Ford's voice was low and determined. "We won't come back until we know where the Wraith went."

"On that note, Lieutenant," Elizabeth gave Ford her best authoritarian gaze, "if you do find the address, I don't want you to think you should go and try to rescue them immediately."

"Doctor…," Stackhouse started but was interrupted by Elizabeth.

"Therefore I am ordering you to return to Atlantis first, before any rescue mission is attempted." Her warning gaze shifted between the two soldiers. "Understood?"

Both men nodded.

"Yes ma'am," Ford replied quietly.

"Good." She smiled slightly. "Good luck." With Rodney standing next to her, she watched as Stackhouse and Ford walked back to the rest of the team. She turned towards the stairs, but was stopped by Rodney's peculiar expression. A cross between guilt and worry, the air about him was atypical, as his blue eyes fixed on the inactive gate. "Rodney?"

Slowly he looked at her, any vulnerability disappearing from his face. "We'll find them, Elizabeth, I promise."

Taken aback by his uncharacteristic sincerity, she could only nod. From somewhere inside she found a small smile, and squeezed his arm briefly, before making her way up the stairs. She stopped on the landing, turned and looked down at the assembled team. She tapped her headset lightly. "Peter? Dial the gate." Her eyes flicked briefly to the gate as it activated, before once more fixing on the team. The last time she had sent people to this planet, they didn't all come back. Deep inside, a strong sense of foreboding swept through her, and it took everything she had not to order the mission scrubbed. From the corner of her eye, she glanced at the curving stairs that led to the control room, half expecting to see John Sheppard lightly trot down the steps to join the off-world team. Blinking hard, she once more fixed her attention on the team as they disappeared into the wormhole…. Never before in her life had she felt more helpless.

--------------------------

"Spread out!" Ford dashed straight forward from the Stargate and stopped, scanning the clearing for any movement as his team fanned out in all directions, securing the immediate area around the gate. "Are we clear?" He continued watching while each member of the team gave an affirmative answer.

He reached up, clicking on his radio. "Atlantis, this is Ford. The gate is secure. We'll contact you again when McKay is finished."

"Copy that, Lieutenant. We'll contact you in four hours for an update, and to see if you need anything," Elizabeth responded. "Be careful." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Atlantis out."

Ford turned, watching as the Stargate disengaged. He looked over to Rodney, who was holstering his sidearm. "What about the transmitter signal?"

Rodney waved absently as he started unloading equipment from his backpack. "Relax, Lieutenant, I had the MALP scan for that before we even came through the gate. It's not transmitting. As long as someone with the Ancient gene doesn't touch the obelisk, we should be fine." 

"Good because I'd like to have a little warning before the Wraith…." 

"Lieutenant, do you honestly think I'd be here if we were walking into a trap?" Exasperated, Rodney glared at Ford. "Now, can I get to work?"

Biting back his irritation, Ford nodded curtly. "Go ahead."

Rodney nodded once and headed for the DHD, while Ford walked around the MALP and up to Stackhouse. 

"Let's get a perimeter set up, Sergeant. Even though the MALP didn't detect anything, I still want the area secure." Ford's gaze wandered to the far side of the Stargate, settling on the prone form of Sergeant Bower. He clenched his jaw in anger… pushing aside unbidden images of the Major being fed upon by Wraith. "Cover the Sergeant's body. We'll take him back to Atlantis when we return."

Stackhouse nodded curtly. "Yes sir."

Allowing his gaze to linger on Bower for a moment more, Ford shook his head and headed back the DHD, leaving behind the sound of Stackhouse organizing the team. He watched as Rodney knelt under the device and removed an access panel. "How long is this going to take?"

Rodney looked out from under the DHD, his expression decidedly annoyed. "A lot longer if you keep bugging me about it." He once more disappeared under the DHD.

Ford glanced at Teyla, who sighed at Rodney's behavior. He turned away, his gaze fixed on the open and silent clearing. He could almost see the Major and Cooper running towards him, his mind's eye playing the scene over and over. "We're coming, Major," Ford muttered to himself.

Teyla briefly squeezed his arm. "We will find them, Aiden," she said softly.

Ford smiled briefly… unconvincingly, and just nodded.

---------------------------------

John staggered and fell heavily to the floor as the Wraith guard all but threw him into the cell. He lay on his side for a moment, his shoulder and head throbbing from the impact. Looking back, he watched as the Wraith guard tossed Cooper into the cell in much the same manner before leaving them alone.

John rolled over and crawled slowly to the Corporal's side. He grabbed the soldier's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Corporal?"

Cooper's groan turned into a choked cry of agony.

John winced and once more squeezed Cooper's shoulder. "Take it easy, Corporal."

He gently rolled the paralyzed soldier onto his back. Shrugging out of his jacket, John bunched it up and placed it under Cooper's head. He paused, his hand resting on young soldier's chest as his gaze fixed on the deep lines already present on Cooper's face, and the patches of gray that sprinkled the hair around his temples. More than ten years John's junior, Cooper already looked ten years older. John felt his confidence, his optimism, slip, and found himself pulling on every scrap of control he had so as not to lose out to the call of a rising frustration. Cooper's screams of pain echoed within him and he felt a rising anger towards the Wraith. To kill one of his men was bad enough, but to do it in such a torturous way ground away at his self control.

Although a man who followed his gut, he liked to believe he had a rational head for things. When it came to the Wraith, though, he was finding it more and more difficult to quell his vindictiveness. Sumner, Abrams, Gaul, Bower… Cooper. John swallowed hard. How many more men under his command would the Wraith kill? He bowed his head. He was a soldier, and he'd faced many enemies in his career, most ready to kill him, but he'd never crossed the line before… never seen them the way he saw the Wraith. Since that first time, when he'd mercifully shot Sumner, a low anger had been burning in him, its effect bringing a dark clarity to him. He found himself toeing the line between what he should do… and what he'd have to do.

His eyes passed over Cooper. The Wraith threatened everyone, and everything, dear to John. His friends… his family… hell, even his species. Not even his training, it seemed, could help him. John found himself in unknown territory, with only his own moral compass to guide him. He shook his head at the irony. Wasn't following his own personal standards what he'd tried to do his whole career? Now faced with a situation where he had to follow his gut and nothing else, he found it darkly ironic that he had any hesitation at all. He was snapped from his dark brooding by Cooper's quiet moan.

Eyes glazed over with pain, Cooper looked up at John. "Hurts… sir," he choked out. "Can't move."

Teeth clenched, John blanketed his emotions under an iron will "I know, Corporal." He mustered a small, barely reassuring smile as he slowly stood and surveyed their situation. Hopelessness eroded his optimism, but John pushed it away. Cooper's condition definitely complicated any thoughts of escape, but John refused to admit defeat. Somehow, he would find a way to escape… for both of them. _You don't leave people behind…._

He slowly crossed the cell to the bars blocking the entrance and grabbed hold, uselessly pulling on them, before leaning heavily on his hands and letting his head drop. He felt helplessness surge through him, its effect unfamiliar, as his racing mind found no tactical advantage he could use to secure an escape. He'd never faced a situation like this before…. In fact, John could never remember a time where he couldn't find a solution for any situation he found himself in. A grim smile briefly graced his mouth. His dad had always been proud of John's resourcefulness, convinced that his son would be a brilliant military tactician someday. John looked around at their seemingly inescapable prison, his mind drawing a blank. "So much for the tactical genius," he muttered.

Frustrated, he sighed loudly, before forcing himself to once more concentrate on their situation. To no avail. A small voice whispered to him… _alone and healthy, you stand a chance at freedom._ Guilt stormed through him, and he immediately dismissed the idea of escaping alone. Racking his brain, he couldn't see a way out for both him and Cooper... but he'd be damned if he was going to leave the corporal behind.

His head snapped up, and he was pulled from his thoughts, by Cooper's strangled cry. He quickly crossed the cell to Cooper's side and knelt next to him.

"Cooper? What is it?"

Cooper's face contorted in pain. "My guts… on fire…." He pulled a hissing breath through his tightly-clenched teeth.

John pursed his lips tightly in frustration, powerless to do anything but squeeze Cooper's shoulder in silent support. "Take it easy," he muttered, his words sounding hollow to him. Just as helpless as he'd been when the Wraith fed upon Cooper, he could now only kneel there, his grip tight on Cooper's shoulder, as the corporal suffered through the excruciating effects of the Wraith attack. Fighting anger and frustration… trying to hold onto optimism and confidence, John tightly clenched his jaw, his pursed lips twitching as intense pain tore agonized groans from Cooper's throat. "Easy," John muttered. "Easy."

Abruptly, Cooper drew in a deep, shuddering breath and visibly relaxed. "It's passing… sir," he whispered. "The pain… it's better." He looked up, his expression a strange mix of fear and control, as he did his best to stay calm.

John stared back, momentarily inspired by the outright courage he saw… all the while hating the Wraith for slowly killing Cooper. Somewhere deep inside himself, John mustered enough control to give Cooper a small smile. "We're going to get through this."

Cooper swallowed hard, his expression knowing. "Sir… I can't…. There's no way I can escape now…."

John straightened, alarms going off within him. "Cooper, don't. I'm not leaving you behind." The rational part of John urged him to listen to Cooper, but he immediately turned away from it. Rational be damned. He knew what the young soldier was driving at, and it was not an option.

"Sir..."

"Corporal, we're not going to have this conversation," John interrupted immediately, his voice taking on a commanding tone. "We are both going to get out of here. Have I made myself clear?"

For a moment, Cooper looked on the verge of objecting, but a stern look from John ended the thought. He sighed deeply and nodded. "Yes, sir."

John nodded once, curtly. He stood and slowly paced the cell, his mind racing… searching for any escape.


	2. Book I Chapter II

Hours passed as John continued to think, his emotions swaying radically between hope, when some strategy would form in his head, and helplessness, as impossible obstacles forced him to discard it. He glanced down at Cooper, who faded in and out of consciousness, the waves of pain coming at regular intervals. To John, the young solider didn't seem to be getting worse, but deep down, he knew the Wraith attack would ultimately would have a devastating effect on him… or at least that's what Carson had theorized.

"_They digest humans as they feed, Major. There must be at least one enzyme associated with that, probably more. Think of thed enzyme as kind of like an acid. It'll eat away at living tissue, ultimately causing irreversible damage."_

John continued staring at the dozing Corporal, concerned at the light sheen of sweat that had formed on Cooper's brow. In the last hour, he had developed a fever, as his body reacted to the Wraith attack in the only way it knew how. Guilt plagued John. He could've left Cooper and Bower at Atlantis. He could've left them standing post, instead of insisting they come along. He could've….

He shook his head and inhaled sharply. Second guessing the past would get him nowhere. Given what he'd known at the time, he'd done the right thing. Hell, if he'd known what he knew now, none of them would've gone to the planet in the first place. He shook his head and once more looked around, momentarily angry with himself for allowing his mind to wander off the task at hand… and into something as pointless as guilt.

Pulling strength from deep inside, he felt raw determination once more take over. He refused to give up. He had to focus on the here and now, and, right now, the priority was freedom. There had to be a way for them to escape. All he had to do was figure it out.

He was abruptly snapped from his thoughts by movement in the hallway. He took a deep breath, once more forcing a cold and calculating expression onto his face and burying his emotions deep within himself. By the time the Wraith guards opened the cell, he wore a resolute expression and stood unmoving over Cooper. The two lead guards stepped aside as a Wraith male slowly walked between them. John immediately recognized the male as the one that had visited them before.

John quirked an eyebrow as a faint humorless smile pulled at his mouth. "Back so soon?"

The Wraith's eyes widened, his expression turning predatory. "Stand aside, human." He looked down at Cooper, before glancing at one of the guards.

John just stared back at the powerful Wraith, unfazed, silent and unmoving, keeping his expression neutral, even as a Wraith guard stepped in front of the male. He only slowly shifted his attention to the guard.

He never saw it coming.

Faster than he could react, he felt a forceful blow propelling him backwards. Helplessly, he sailed through the air before crashing to the floor, the force of the hit from the Wraith guard sending him sliding into the back wall.

He groaned and pulled in a ragged breath as stars danced in his vision. Cooper's stifled cries of pain cut through the fog in his head. He blinked hard and forced himself up on his knees, driven by Cooper's plight. He looked up, watching as the Wraith guards uncaringly pulled Cooper off the floor and carried him out of the cell. Anger surged through him the rough treatment of his injured man sparking a primal rage deep within.

Two more guards approached John and waved silently for him to stand.

Drawing a deep breath, he slowly pulled his legs under himself. Springing to his feet, he buried his fist in the gut of one of the guards, the force of his entire body behind it. The Wraith staggered and, wasting no time, John reached for the stunner weapon.

His hard won, small victory was short lived. Pain exploded in the back of his head, as the other guard struck him with the blunt end of his stun weapon. Dazed, John sank to the floor. He was helpless when the Wraith guard he'd struck recovered from the blow and grabbed both of his arms, cruelly twisting them behind his back.

He staggered as he was brutally marched from the cell. He glanced over at the semi-conscious Cooper, who was being dragged along close by. Helplessness once again stalked him, but he refused to give into its seduction. He forced it deep within himself and shook his head repeatedly, chasing away the fog of unconsciousness and regaining his wits as he prepared to face the "master" Wraith once more. Training and instinct drove him as he struggled to impose an iron will over his emotions

He and Cooper were brought to the same room they had been in before. Circling the large table, the "master" Wraith looked up as they were marched in.

Forced to his knees, John looked up as the Wraith slowly approached. He drove all fear and doubt from himself as he stared defiantly back.

"You are different," the Wraith stated without preamble. "When last we met, I told you I would know why." He stopped for a moment and looked down at John, before turning to Cooper. "You will tell me what you know of Atlantis." The Wraith's expression was frightfully eager as he looked down at Cooper.

John's mind raced. Torn between his loyalty to Atlantis and his personal standards for any man under his command, he was gripped with indecision for the first time since he had stepped through the Stargate to Atlantis. He tore his gaze from the Wraith and looked at Cooper, the corporal's pained but intense gaze demanding his attention.

Slowly, silently, Cooper shook his head.

Watching the subtle exchange, the Wraith grabbed Cooper's hair and yanked his head up, forcing him to make eye contact. "You will not die painlessly, human… or quickly." The Wraith bent in close, his face scant inches from Cooper's. "I will take your life, piece… by… piece."

John pulled against his guard, his actions fruitless. "Leave him alone, you bastard!"

His expression challenging, the Wraith looked over at John. "Tell me how many people are in Atlantis!"

Deep inside John, something snapped. From somewhere John found a new sense of control… of clarity, as his rational mind overpowered his emotions completely and utterly. The Wraith weren't interested in a compromise. They wanted answers to their questions… and would kill Cooper to get them. But, darkly, John realized they were going to kill both him and Cooper anyway. His thoughts turned to Elizabeth… the expedition team… Earth. This was more than intel… more than what that Special Forces colonel was talking about. John was weighing his life and Cooper's against every life on Earth. Perspective struck John and his decision came swiftly. Faintly, guilt screamed at him, but John stuck to his choice: the only one he could make in a situation with no winning outcome.

"No." John's whisper had a note of resignation to it, but the gaze he gave the Wraith Lord was unwavering.

The Wraith's reaction was instantaneous. He slammed his hand into Cooper's chest, eliciting an agonized cry from the young soldier.

John's control snapped, his hard-won logic crumbling under a tidal wave of emotion. "NO!" His voice took on a note of desperation that angered him even more. He lashed back with his elbow, catching the Wraith soldier in the gut.

Snarling the guard easily lifted John off the ground, before throwing him hard to the floor.

He felt the air explode from his lungs as a strangled cry escaped his lips. His entire body screamed in pain as he forced himself to take a ragged breath, wheezing loudly as air reluctantly rushed back into his lungs. He looked up just as the Wraith pulled away from Cooper.

Cooper slumped into unconsciousness, held up only by the grip of the two Wraith guards on his arms.

The "master" Wraith crossed to John and looked down. His expression was impassive. "You have more strength than I first believed, human." He cocked his head in faint curiosity. "Interesting." He abruptly turned away as the Wraith guard pulled John back up on his knees.

"Who are you?" John croaked, his breath only just beginning to come back to him. His mind cleared and he forced himself to once again match wits with the Wraith. He pulled in a deep, ragged breath. "You could just say you're 'my death,' but I was hoping for something more original," he quipped humorlessly.

The Wraith's gaze narrowed as he slowly turned and once more stared at John. "You do not fear me."

John's expression turned spiteful, and his voice took on a low and dangerous tone. "I've killed enough of your kind not to be scared anymore."

The Wraith slowly walked back to John and circled him. "I have not seen one like you in a very long time." He stopped in front of John and stared him in the eyes, his gaze searching.

"Who are you?" John repeated as he met gazes with the Wraith.

The Wraith turned away. "I rule this hive, human. I am its Lord."

"Lord?" John glanced at Cooper, before once more watching the Wraith. "Lord of all the Wraith?" he continued, determined to keep the Wraith Lord's attention on him… and off Cooper.

The Wraith once more turned back to him. "Of this sector's hives, Atlantean. Every sector has its hives, its Queens and its Lords."

John stared spitefully back. "Somehow I can't see my way clear to calling you Lord." He smiled humorlessly. "I think I'll call you Fred."

The Wraith ignored the remark. "Do not think I have forgotten your companion." He looked down at the Corporal and hissed.

John's heart skipped a beat. "Wait!" He pulled against the solid grip of the Wraith guard, desperate to keep the Wraith's attention. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

The Wraith turned cold and deadly eyes on John. "Because when I have learned all I can from you, I will feed upon your strength, human." With deadly accuracy, the Wraith grabbed Cooper and fed.

His hair nearly white, and his face aged decades beyond his young years, Cooper moaned weakly.

"NO!" John struggled in vain, desperation robbing him of rational thought. "Damn it, stop!" He pulled helplessly against the guard. "STOP IT!"

The Wraith glared at him, a chilling smile splitting his lips at the Major's desperation. He fed a few moments longer, before pulling away. He waved absently at the two guards, who let go of the Corporal, allowing him to fall heavily to the floor.

The Wraith slowly circled the motionless, prone soldier. "He will not live much longer, human." Leaving Cooper behind, the Wraith once more approached John and stopped. He snarled, his face only inches from John's. "Then I will feed upon you."

John stared coldly back and quipped darkly, "I hope you get indigestion, Fred. It didn't have the effect he was hoping for.

The Wraith abruptly smiled, his expression eager at the determination and strength he saw in the Major's face. "I will savor you, Lantean." He turned away, waving at the guards.

John continued staring at the Wraith Lord's retreating back, until the guard physically forced him away and marched him out of the room.

He glanced over at Cooper. The unconscious soldier was being dragged by two guards. He looked decades older than he had when they'd left the cell. John felt the pressure of their situation redouble within him. Cooper would never survive another session with Fred. Whatever John was going to do to escape, he knew he had only a few hours to do it.

--------------------------------------

Rodney glanced out from under the DHD, watching as Ford's boots once more passed by. He reached for his diagnostic computer and tapped a couple buttons. The readings the computer spat back at him were not encouraging. Sighing, turned his attention back to the DHD control crystals, his mind racing. "Why is it that these things always look so easy in theory?" he muttered, careful to keep his voice quiet enough not to be heard. Playing twenty questions with Ford was the last thing he needed right now. His gaze once more flicked to the ground beyond the DHD as Ford's boots again passed by. "Pacing definitely does not help," Rodney muttered.

"What?" The boots stopped and abruptly Ford's face peeked under the DHD. "Did you say something McKay?"

Rodney glared at Ford, giving the Lieutenant a very well-practiced annoyed look. "Stop pacing!" He returned to working, hoping that if he ignored Ford, he'd go away.

"How's it coming?"

_He's clueless_. Rodney's irritation redoubled. He glanced at the equipment scattered around him before glaring at Ford. "How does it look like it's coming, Ford? Now shut up and let me work!"

"McKay…." Ford's retort was stopped short by Stackhouse's voice coming across both their radios.

"Lieutenant… I found something you might want to see."

Rodney's anger dissolved at the sergeant's subdued tone. A hopeless pessimist, he paled, his eyes widening as they connected with Ford's. "You don't think…?"

Ford jumped up. "Let's find out for sure." He grabbed his radio call button. "On my way, Sergeant."

Rodney followed behind Ford and Teyla quickly joined them as they started across the clearing.

"Shouldn't you keep working?" Ford asked as they walked briskly through the thick grass side by side.

Rodney stared evenly back. Never one to express it, he nonetheless had a deep respect for John. If this had anything to do with his capture, he was going to see it first hand. "Not right now."

Silently, Ford nodded.

They came to the edge of the clearing and found Stackhouse standing next to a large tree. He was looking down, his eyes wandering across the ground around the tree.

Rodney's gaze followed the Sergeant's. "My God," he whispered.

"Damn," Ford muttered.

Lying casually in the grass were a P-90 and a 9 mil handgun.

Stackhouse slowly knelt and picked up the P-90, turning it over in his hands. "It's out of ammo." He grabbed the side arm and nodded. "This one too." He glanced around at the numerous empty casings scattered on the ground, before fixing Ford and Rodney with a grim expression. "Whatever happened, the Major and Cooper put up a hell of a fight."

Rodney nodded, his expression stony. "For all the good it did." He watched as Ford looked out across the clearing, his gaze distant.

"This must've been where the Major dragged Cooper to when he was stunned. Cooper was unconscious. This is all from the Major." Ford looked back to the ground and absently kicked a few bullet casings. "The Major must've made his stand here… until he ran out of ammo."

"Yes," Teyla agreed. "I recognize the landmarks." She pointed across the clearing. "That is where they emerged from the woods. This would've been the closest cover the Major could get to."

Rodney squatted, picking up a bullet casing and rolling it between two fingers. He could almost see John standing there, protecting an unconscious Cooper, as the Wraith closed in on them. Respect welled deep inside Rodney. Had the situation not been so grim, he would've chuckled over it. For years, he'd worked closely with the military. Not by choice, but by necessity. It seemed whatever he was involved in, the military wasn't far behind. He'd watched them: macho men with big guns and overbearing attitudes, throwing their weight around… looking down on him and the other scientists. _Testosterone-driven, gun-happy bravado_, he'd called it.

_Why would this one be any different?_ Rodney had asked the first time he laid eyes on Major Sheppard. Yet he'd been surprised by John's willingness to put his own life in jeopardy… to risk his own capture… his own life, in the name of someone else…impressed by the way he led a team, other soldiers, willingly into the unknown to rescue Sumner and the others. Suddenly, _testosterone-driven gun-happy bravado_ no longer seemed right to Rodney. Irritation flickered at him, but he denied its effects. He never liked being proved wrong, but in this case, he couldn't deny the facts before him.

Other words, ones like bravery, valor, and courage started to find their way into his perspective on the military.

_You don't leave people behind._

Rodney glanced around at the bullet casings by his feet. He'd heard those words from John's mouth a few times, but only at this moment, only on seeing the gun… the bullets… the fight John had put up, even in the face of inescapable odds, did he finally realize their meaning.

_You don't leave people behind._

His thoughts kindled a grim determination. And neither would he.

He stood abruptly, dropping the bullet casing. He turned away, briskly heading back towards the gate.

"McKay?"

Ford's voice stopped him in his tracks. He put on his best sour expression and looked back. "I have work to do." He turned away and headed back to the DHD without another word.

---------------------------------------

They came again. Ironically, part of John really didn't mind. It seemed like forever since he and Cooper had been left alone. He had paced the cell looking for escape, sat in the corner and brooded, even given in to exhaustion and slept, but the Wraith hadn't returned. As he had watched the young Corporal's condition gradually deteriorate until unconsciousness overtook him, he became acutely aware that there was no escape… not for both of them anyway. There was a chance for him, still healthy… alone, but that would mean leaving Cooper in the hands of the Wraith, and that was an option he refused to consider.

He licked his parched lips; his mouth and throat were scratchy. With his watch gone, he could only guess at how long they'd been prisoners, but, apart the pinch of hunger in his gut, he could feel the effects of dehydration, and guessed they'd been captured at least 24 or 36 hours ago. His head pounded: the headache had been relentless since their last session with Fred. At first, the knock on the head he had taken had made it hard for John to concentrate, but once the lightheadedness had passed, he'd accustomed himself to the pain, and forced his mind to focus.

"Where the hell are you?" he muttered, watching the Wraith walk purposefully down the hallway. His rational mind knew there was no way Atlantis would know where to look for them but, deep inside him, a small flicker of hope still burned. He'd seen the tenacity of Elizabeth Weir, the ingenuity of Rodney McKay, and a small part of John clung to that flicker of hope… the last anchor of optimism he had.

He once again stood over Cooper as the male and two guards entered the cell. He swallowed hard, wincing slightly at the raw pain in his dry throat. A sense of urgency sharpened his senses. Without water, he'd have to do something soon… while he still had the strength to do it. He smiled coldly as the guards both pointed their stunners directly at him as soon as they entered the cell. They were wary this time, and a part of him savored the small victory. He'd made an impression on them, and they treated him more like an equal and less like livestock. Insignificant under normal circumstances, the small kernel of respect he'd gained fueled his spirit and strengthened his resolve. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered his father speaking of the strange respect enemies could have for each other. He'd never understood it… until this moment. He'd stung them enough times that they respected him. They might kill him, or feed upon him, but they'd never look at him like livestock again and he took great satisfaction that small victory.

The Wraith male stepped between the two guards and snarled at John. "Step back, human."

John locked gazes with the Wraith for a moment, before glancing at each of the guards. He looked back to the male. "No."

The Wraith growled and stepped back as the two guards advanced on John. Before he could react, one of the guards raised his stunner and fired.

The force of the blast staggered John, but, to his surprise, unconsciousness didn't overtake him. For an instant, his body was numb… then the pain came. As if thousands of needles had been stabbed into him simultaneously; he felt like he was on fire. A strangled cry escaped him as he fell to his knees.

Allowing him no respite, the guard fired again and the agony in John's body redoubled, tearing a tortured scream from his throat before he fell to the floor. Waves of pain paralyzed him… trapping him in agony as the comfort of unconsciousness was denied him. Panic gripped him… fear consumed him. He writhed, pain stealing his voice.

Gradually, the pain lessened, and his body sagged against the floor, the cool surface soothing his sweating body. Still panting and his heart pounding, he slowly opened his eyes, and looked into the dispassionate gaze of the Wraith male.

"Our stunners have many settings, human… and many purposes." He waved to one of the guards, who picked up John like a rag doll and shoved him against the wall, holding him fast by the neck. The Wraith male stared dispassionately at him. "Continue your resistance and you will learn each and every one of them." He turned and looked down at Cooper. Hissing, he kicked the unconscious soldier, his gaze narrowing at the lack of reaction. His eyes flicked from one guard to the other. He turned and exited the cell, while the two Wraith guards each grabbed one of John's arms and hauled him down the long hallway.

John tried to walk, but his rubbery legs and clouded head hindered him. It was all he could do to stagger and try to keep up with the brisk pace the Wraith set. He shook his head, trying to clear it before going head to head with Fred again. The pain he had experienced had been torturous. He couldn't imagine a worse agony, and a part of him wanted to do anything to avoid experiencing it ever again. Staunch determination filled him. That's what the Wraith wanted and he wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

-------------------------

Rodney scooted back from the DHD and pulled one of the laptop computers closer to him. "Okay, now we're in business."

Ford looked over his shoulder, his expression guarded. "That's what you said the last six times, McKay."

Rodney sighed and glanced up at Ford in irritation. "This isn't an exact science, Lieutenant. I knew this DHD would probably be a little different than the Atlantis one. It's just a matter of adapting the technique to compensate for the differences."

"How long is that going to take? We've been here over eight hours, McKay."

"I don't know, Ford! What's your hurry? Have some place to be?" Rodney shot back.

"As a matter of fact, yeah," Ford responded quietly, his dark, intense eyes fixed on the doctor.

Rodney sighed. "Right." He started rapidly punching keys on the laptop, paused, and stared at the screen for a moment, his expression perplexed. "Hmm… that should've worked…."

"So much for being in business," Ford muttered.

Rodney pushed back the laptop, following its cable back to the inside of the DHD. "You think you can do better, Dr. Einstein?" He wiggled the cord, smiling. "Ah! No problem, just a loose connection." Grabbing the laptop, he once again punched a series of keys and smiled broadly as data began scrolling across the screen. "Like I said, we're in business."

"What? You got the address?" Ford leaned over and stared at the computer screen.

"Give it a second! The program has to scan the data and translate it first." Rodney glared at the computer screen, willing it to work. Sure, he'd assumed there would be some minor differences in technique between the Atlantis DHD and the off-world DHDs. After all, the Atlantis DHD was unique in more ways than one, mostly because of the control crystal. Still, he'd been surprised it had been this hard to compensate for the differences. When he'd stepped through the gate, he'd been assuming it would take an hour… maybe two… not eight.

Abruptly, the data stopped scrolling. Almost victoriously, the computer beeped three times. Rodney's smile of elation faded as several sets of chevrons scrolled up the screen. "What? Damn it!"

Ford looked back and forth between the computer display and Rodney's expression. "What? What is it?"

Rodney furiously punched computer keys, completely ignoring Ford. "This didn't happen on the Atlantis DHD. I don't get it!"

"Don't get what? What's going on, McKay?" Ford's voice rose in agitation.

Rodney stopped typing. "It mined the address alright… along with 10 others!" He glared back at the DHD. "There must be something different between the Atlantis DHD and the off world ones, besides the obvious."

"Can you tell which one the Wraith took the Major and Cooper to?" Teyla asked, as she walked up behind Ford.

Rodney exhaled loudly as his eyes flicked over the computer display. "Maybe…," his voice trailed off as he started rapidly typing commands on the computer.

"McKay," Ford prompted. When he didn't get a response, he raised his voice. "McKay!"

"What?" Rodney snapped loudly as he looked up from the laptop.

"Are you sure the address we want is one of those?" Ford asked firmly.

"Yes, yes, it has to be. There aren't any others." Rodney returned his attention to the computer.

"Then what do you say…," Ford started, only to be cut off by Rodney.

"That's it!" Rodney's furious typing increased in tempo, "it has to be."

"McKay…."

"Shut up, Ford!" Rodney waved aimlessly in Ford's direction. He typed a few more commands and looked up, a smug smile crossing his face. "I have it."

"How…?"

"Never mind how, Ford! I have it,." Rodney interrupted triumphantly.

Any irritation Ford had at Rodney's behavior was mostly quelled by the victory. He reached up, clicking on his radio. "Team, this is Ford. Fall back to the gate to return to Atlantis. McKay _thinks _he has the address." Ford squatted next to the Doctor and eyed the partially disassembled DHD. "How long until we can dial out?"

Rodney quickly reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, hastily scratching down the chevrons for all the addresses. He underlined the probable one and glanced at Ford's quizzical expression. "I want a hard copy… just in case." He looked around at the scattered equipment. "Give me 15 maybe 20 minutes."

"You're sure that's the right address?"

"Yes!" Rodney immediately responded. His expression abruptly lost some confidence. "Well, mostly…."

Ford shook his head. "Great," he muttered.

"Ford, the chances are extremely high that I'm right here!" Rodney retorted.

Wordlessly, Ford stood, crossing in front of the Gate to meet with Stackhouse.

Rodney took a moment to stare at the addresses, still displayed on the computer's screen, his gaze fixing on one particular sequence of chevrons. He was right, and he knew it, even if he couldn't prove it. This was too important for him to be wrong, and he knew with warranted confidence that, when the chips were down, he rarely was wrong. Hope returned to him. _We're coming, Major._

-------------------------------------

John suppressed a grunt, as the guard threw him to his knees. Catching himself with his hands, he straightened, closed his eyes, and imposed a strong discipline on his aching head. Between the past abuses and his recent experience with the Wraith stunner, he felt foggy headed… scattered, and had to work to concentrate. He opened his eyes and watched as Fred slowly approached him.

Fred circled John, but John continued to stare straight forward, unmoving. Stopping in front of him, the Wraith looked down, his expression cold and calculating. "Your companion is near death, human."

John stared evenly back, his iron will controlling any emotional response. "What's your point?"

Fred smiled predatorily, refusing to be baited. "Yet his strength has sustained me… and soon yours will too." His hands folded behind him, Fred slowly walked to the large table on the other end of the room. He stopped behind a female seated at the end. Almost reverently, he ran one hand up her cheek, growling quietly as she hissed back at him.

John looked away in disgust… an action not lost on Fred.

He came back to stand before John. "I tire of these games." Abruptly, Fred grabbed John's hair and forced him into eye contact. "How many of your kind are in Atlantis?" Bending at the waist, Fred lowered himself until his face was scant inches from John's.

_How many…?_

Fred's words seemed to permeate every fiber of John's being. He heard them… saw them… felt them. Every part of him cried out, begging to answer, but John somehow found the strength to stop himself. Words… any words, pleaded to be heard, and John allowed a few. "Go to hell," he forced through clenched teeth.

Fred smiled. His gaze narrowed as he stared deeply into John's eyes. _How many, human…?_

John squeezed his eyes shut, groaning through clenched teeth. _A hundred or so! Not many! Hardly any! Another hundred Athosians!_ His mind screamed… begged to be heard. John sucked in a ragged breath, hissing through his clenched teeth. He swallowed hard, pushing… forcing the words back inside himself. His eyes snapped open, sparking with raw determination. "NO!"

His strangled, but defiant voice angered Fred who snarled and pulled away. "I know you are Lantean…. Only they could resist my call." Fred waved at a nearby guard, who disappeared down the corridor. Once again, he bent over and stared deeply into John's eyes. "Tell me what I want to know… and I'll spare your companion." Fred tilted his head, a chilling smile parting his lips. "Resist me… and you will watch him die."

John stared evenly back. Deep inside him, indecision whispered. _Does he mean it? He'll spare Cooper…? _He pulled in a long breath, smothering his indecision. "You're lying," he growled.

Abruptly, Fred grabbed John by the hair, jerking his head back and forcing him to look up. "Then your companion dies today, human." He forcefully let go of John's head, pushing him back against the guard, before walking away.

John felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Panic and fear assaulted his control, but he held fast, managing to keep the waver from his voice. He shook his head and looked up at Fred. "Leave him alone. He doesn't know anything. I'm the only one who does."

Fred turned slowly and smiled. "That may be true, but your kind does not relish seeing each other suffer. Yet you did not tell me what I wanted to know, even when I fed upon your companion." He strode back to John and looked down at him with an eager expression. "That makes me want the answers even more. This time you will tell me… or you will watch me take all of your companion's years."

Anger swelled within John. He tensed, only to feel the painful grip of the guard's hands pushing down on his shoulders. Movement caught his eye, and he glanced to his left, his eyes closing in regret as the Wraith guard returned, dragging a half conscious Cooper with him.

Holding Cooper's arms, the Wraith guard stopped in the center of the room.

Without looking back, Fred questioned John again. "How many of you are in Atlantis?"

John felt physically ill as the anchor of optimism he'd clung to was squashed by the hard realism of what he faced. There was no escape. Within him, something snapped. Anger and frustration called to him and he fled down the path. "I'm going to kill you, you bastard," John spat.

"No…." Raspy and weak, Cooper's plea wasn't lost on John.

"Cooper," John softened his tone, "I…," his voice trailed off as words escaped him. A movement in the corner of his eye tore his gaze from Cooper. Startled, he barely had time to wince as Fred's hand impacted his face. The force of Fred's backhand drove him hard into the floor. Stunned, it took a moment before he could move. He grunted and looked up, watching through blurred vision as the female crossed to stand before Cooper.

She looked at Fred, who nodded back. Hissing, the female slammed her hand into Cooper's chest, while Fred turned and walked away.

Forcing himself to his hands and knees, John tried to rise… tried to get to Cooper. "NO!"

Fred descended on him, faster than John thought was possible. Grabbing the Major's face, he forced John to again make eye contact. At the same time, the guard grabbed John's arms, holding him fast.

"That is your fate, human! I will feed upon your strength and savor all of your years!" Brutally, Fred wrenched John's head around, forcing him to watch Cooper's torture.

Horrified, John watched Cooper's transformation unfold. Powerless… helpless… maybe for the first time in his life, he could do nothing as the female sucked the life from Cooper. Already grayed hair turned white… and a withered shell replaced the fit body of a 26-year-old corporal.

His eyes hazed with death, Cooper looked at John one last time.

The image burned itself instantly into John's head. As life fled from Cooper's eyes, John whispered, "I'm sorry."

The female pulled away, smiling in pleasure as Cooper's body dropped heavily to the floor. She sauntered by Fred, pausing long enough to hiss quietly at him, before she left the room.

John stared coldly at Fred, who walked slowly towards him. He felt his death approaching... and he was in no mood to avoid it. He'd told them nothing… and knew he'd die for it. In the back of his mind regret whispered to him. He regretted never seeing Atlantis again… leaving the expedition team without his support… never reconciling with his father. His heart raced, adrenaline coursing through him as he felt death inch closer and closer with each of Fred's steps. His breathing quickened as he stared hard at the approaching Wraith.

He raised his chin proudly, determined to face his death with the same bravery he'd seen in Cooper, but, instead of bringing death, Fred just hovered over him, staring callously at him.

Finally, the Wraith lord spoke. "Your strength runs deep, human. I will relish it… when I am ready." He waved at the guard and turned away.

John was numb, his mind not knowing how to handle what had just happened. Resigned to facing his death, rational thought had left him. Now that he'd escaped death, his mind didn't know what to do.

The guard pulled him to his feet and marched him down the hallway.

Slowly, then with increasing intensity, an instinct for survival formed within him. Primal... base, the sense spread through him, crushing every other emotion under it. Spared his death, he embraced living. Strength returned to fuel his resolve, and he channeled the power of his spite… his anger into living. It became the one and only focus he had... and at any expense, he was going to survive… if only to spite the Wraith.

----------------------------------

Elizabeth trotted down the Gateroom stairs, Zelenka right behind her, as Ford's team emerged from the wormhole.

"Elizabeth! We got it!" Rodney smiled broadly.

"You THINK you have it," Ford interjected.

Elizabeth paused. "What do you mean? I though you had it?"

"Ma'am, the DHD…."

"Yes, yes," Rodney waved both hands emphatically, completely ignoring Ford's glare at the interruption. "The short story is, the DHD was different than the Atlantis DHD, and mined several addresses instead of just one. I'm almost positive I've managed to isolate the correct address."

"How?" Zelenka interrupted.

"The power signatures are…." Rodney dropped both hands to his sides in exasperation. "Look, just take my word for it! I'll explain it to you sometime, but not now!"

Elizabeth stared hard at Rodney for a moment before nodding slightly. "Okay."

"Ma'am, request permission to organize a rescue team," Ford added hastily.

Elizabeth raised her hand as she quickly studied the expressions on each of their faces. Relief mixed with urgency as both of them fidgeted slightly. "Hold on, Lieutenant." She tapped the earpiece on her radio lightly. "Bates, this is Weir. Report to the control tower. Ford's team has returned from M27-194."

"Yes, ma'am," Bates responded almost immediately.

Elizabeth looked back as Rodney stuck his hand inside his vest and quickly produced a small piece of paper. He grinned triumphantly. "Here."

Elizabeth smiled and took the proffered paper, her eyes scanning the seven chevrons of the underlined address. "I hope you're right, Rodney."

His typical fidgeting disappeared. He stared hard at her. "I am."

Her smile faded slightly as she stared at him for a minute, before nodding silently. She looked up as two soldiers emerged through the gate, carrying a shrouded body between them. "Bower?" she asked quietly

"Yes, ma'am," Ford responded, his voice equally as low.

Elizabeth sighed, and looked up at the two soldiers carrying the dead sergeant. "See that he's taken care of."

Both men nodded and slowly carried Bower from the room.

Elizabeth watched them go. Isolated in the Pegasus galaxy, the expedition team was almost an extended family, and the loss of each team member affected everyone. She shook her head…. It never got easier.

She turned and started up the stairs, Rodney right next to her, Ford, Teyla and Stackhouse only a step behind. Her grip tightened on the piece of paper. Hope re-kindled within her, but she was still guarded, careful to not let her hopes soar too high. What if the address was wrong? She turned away from the thought, latching onto Rodney's confidence. They had a chance to rescue their people… if they were still alive.

"Ma'am." Ford's reserved voice interrupted her thoughts.

She glanced at the young soldier. "Lieutenant?"

"Ma'am, assuming the address is correct…."

"I told you, Ford…," Rodney interjected.

Ford raised his voice over Rodney's protest. "We need to mount a rescue mission ASAP. It's been three days. The Major and Cooper could be in serious trouble if they're even…." Ford caught himself and took a deep breath before continuing, "We need to get to them as quickly as possible."

Elizabeth continued up the stairs, all the while fighting her own subconscious reaction to Ford's words… or rather to what he didn't say. She could be sending more people into danger when Major Sheppard and Corporal Cooper might not even be alive. But John would do it for any of them… so she would do the same.

"So what are you going to do, Ford? Charge in blind, guns blazing?" Rodney retorted, his voice decidedly annoyed.

"You know something McKay?" Ford's tone was tense, "You really…."

"Gentlemen," Elizabeth interrupted firmly. "Let's stay focused." She continued up the stairs and entered the control room.

"Right," Rodney answered tersely.

"Yes, ma'am." Ford's voice was equally short.

Elizabeth nodded once. "Dr. Zelenka," she turned her attention to the Czech doctor, "ready a MALP for off-world recon." She handed the piece of paper with the gate address to Grodin. "Peter, be ready to dial this address when the MALP is ready."

Resting her hands on the balcony railing, Elizabeth stared down at the inactive gate, watching as Zelenka positioned a MALP and quickly tested its systems. She could feel the others standing behind her, but she said nothing. What could she say? They had no idea what the MALP was going to find and, because of that, she couldn't promise them what they wanted: reassurance that they were going to get a chance to mount a rescue mission.

She glanced over her shoulder as Bates came up next to her.

"Ma'am, I'm ready to mobilize a team on your word."

Had the situation not been so grim, Elizabeth would've smiled at Bates' reaction… on the heels of a very similar one from Ford. She briefly thought back to Teyla's words, the last time they'd all met.

_The Major is more than their commanding officer, Dr. Weir. He is their leader, and one is different from the other. They do not only follow him because he outranks them, but because he leads them. _

Elizabeth did allow herself a slight smile. John Sheppard was a natural-born leader. She'd recognized it the first time that she'd talked to him. Even Bates, who butted heads with John more often than not, was ready to risk his life in a rescue. That kind of loyalty had very little to do with rank… it was earned.

"Ma'am?" Bates asked again.

Snapped from her musing, Elizabeth graced him with a small smile, while keeping a strong and assertive expression on her face. "That's good to know, Sergeant. " She looked back down at the Gateroom as Zelenka waved to her, his voice coming across her radio.

"Dr. Weir? The MALP is ready."

"Thank you, Radek." She turned and walked back into the control room. "Dial it up, Peter." She sat down at one of the consoles in front of a laptop.

Rodney grabbed another laptop and typed a series of commands. He gazed at the diagnostic screen intently. "MALP is en route." Tapping another set of keys, he nodded. "MALP has arrived, receiving telemetry now." He paused, taking a moment to digest the readings. "Atmosphere is breathable," he sighed. "At least the gate is on the planet this time."

"What's immediately around the gate?" Bates asked, peering over Elizabeth's shoulder.

Rodney tapped a few more keys. "Nothing so far, no sign of Wraith. They probably don't patrol the gate anyway. Let me rotate the camera."

"Why wouldn't they?" Stackhouse wondered out loud, earning himself an irritated look from Rodney.

"Sergeant, how many people do you know are willing go **to** a Wraith-dominated planet?"

Stackhouse stared evenly back and smiled mischievously. "I see at least three in this room."

"Sergeant…." Rodney's voice rose in timbre.

Elizabeth headed off his retort with a well-placed nod at the laptop in front of him. "The MALP?"

Rodney returned his attention to the laptop. "Camera rotation is 360 degrees and nothing. There's no sign of activity in the immediate area. Planet looks pretty desolate though."

"You expected the Garden of Eden on what could be a Wraith-dominated world, McKay?" Grodin piped in.

"Very funny, Peter," Rodney shot back. "What is this? Pick on McKay day?"

"Every day is a holiday in Atlantis," Ford answered, smiling slightly.

For a moment, the tension in the room eased slightly, as each one of them smiled at the good-natured barbs… except Rodney.

"Fine," he snapped.

"Any indication this is the right planet?" Elizabeth asked, hesitantly.

Stifling his annoyance, Rodney punched a few keys on the laptop. "MALP is detecting an energy source about a half mile from the gate. It could be a dormant hive ship. There's no way to be sure."

"Any way to focus the MALP's camera on it?" Bates asked.

Again, Rodney typed a few keys and shook his head. "Can't. The vegetation is too thick."

"I thought you said it was desolate?" Ford questioned.

"It is, Ford. The trees are dead or dying, but still standing! Sounds pretty desolate to me!" Rodney glared at the Lieutenant.

"Gentlemen," Elizabeth interrupted. "Conference room." She stood. "Peter, shut down the gate. Rodney, bring the MALP data with you. Let's talk about this." She entered the conference room and took a seat on the far side of the table. She sat quietly as the rest of the group filed in and the doors slowly closed behind them.

-------------------------------------

John looked around the empty cell as the guards closed the bars and walked away. It was the same cell he'd left not long ago, but it felt larger… emptier. Gritting his teeth and shaking his head, he paced.

Back and forth across the cell, he stalked, his hands balled into fists and rapid breaths hissing in and out through his clenched teeth, as he tried to master his emotions.

He'd watched Cooper die.

Powerless… helpless to do anything, he'd watched the Wraith suck all the life from the young corporal. John had looked into Cooper's eyes as he'd died….

The image clung to John… unrelenting and filling his mind.

How many times was enough? Was too much? He'd watched Sumner die… and now Cooper. John gave up fighting against his anger as he seethed at the frustration of it all. How many times would he look into the dying eyes of his comrades, knowing that there was nothing he could do to save them?

He growled as he turned and started stalking across the cell again. At least he'd been able to end Sumner's suffering. With Cooper all he could do was watch… watch, as Cooper died a slow and agonizing death.

So many emotions coursed through him… over him… consumed him, that he was helpless to control any of them, and that only fueled his anger. From deep inside him, three days' worth of hate and helplessness surged to the surface, ripping a hoarse shout from him.

His wordless, unintelligible scream echoed off the walls around him. It was frustrated, yet a note of rebellion rang true. Part of him screamed his defiance to the Wraith.

Strangled by lack of air, his shout faded away as he stood in the center of his cell; his chest heaving in exertion. Oddly, as he caught his breath, he felt more in control. A channel for his pent up emotions, the shout had been peculiarly therapeutic and he shook his head at the oddity.

"Should've done that a long time ago," he muttered, his words bringing out a small, ironic smile, in spite of his situation. He looked around, taking stock of his condition.

There was nothing now to stop the Wraith from killing him… and his survival instinct took over, responding to the imminent threat. At best, he guessed he had a half-day before they'd come for him…. At worst, only a few hours. Somehow he'd have to escape… and he'd have to do it quick.

Small at first, but ever growing, guilt weaseled its way into his thoughts. Without Cooper, his chances were better. He shook his head, immediately dismissing the thought, but the logical and pragmatic thought stuck with him. He didn't have to worry about a defenseless, injured man any more, and that freed him up to escape. Silently, insistently, guilt followed behind him… but he refused to face it. He couldn't, and he wouldn't. Now wasn't the time. Channeling his thoughts and energies into escaping, he pushed away the guilt.

But, deep inside him, it remained.

-------------------------------------

Elizabeth glanced around at the five expectant faces looking back at her. She sighed quietly. "First, well done, Rodney." She smiled at the Canadian doctor, who nodded slightly.

"Ma'am, " Ford started, "about the rescue mission…?"

"Lieutenant," Elizabeth interrupted, "you need to know that if there is a chance for a rescue mission to be successful, I will authorize one. But we need to be careful about this. I won't act rashly, or give into impatience, is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ford responded quietly.

She nodded before glancing around the room. "I want options on how to handle this."

"Ma'am," Bates immediately responded, "I recommend a small, heavily-armed team. We sneak in. If the Major and Cooper are there, we rescue them, and sneak out. Hopefully, undetected."

"We don't know if the energy source the MALP is detecting is where the Major and Cooper are, Sergeant," Elizabeth contradicted quietly.

"It's pretty likely," Rodney answered. "As far as we could tell, the planet was uninhabited. The energy source the MALP detected is significant, probably a dormant hive ship. I'll have a better idea once I get to the planet and can scan the source directly."

Elizabeth glanced at Bates, before looking back to Rodney, whose attention was fixed on the laptop's display.

"Who said you were going?" Bates' voice was uncompromising.

Rodney looked up, puzzled. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Rodney," Elizabeth started quietly, "this is a military matter."

Rodney's expression turned immediately defensive. "You can't be serious! You need me! What are you going to do? Blast your way through every door you find? Yeah, that's really subtle! The Wraith will never notice you detonating C4! You need me to get in and out of there quietly! You have no idea what you're facing! You need me to solve all the problems we can't even guess at yet!"

"Rodney!" Elizabeth snapped, silencing him. "We get the point." She looked away and sighed before gazing once more at him. "This could be dangerous."

"And facing the Genii two different times wasn't? Sneaking onto a Wraith ship for intel wasn't?" Rodney leaned back in his chair and stared at her, his expression determined. "You need me on this mission."

Elizabeth glanced at Ford, who nodded slightly. "Okay," she said finally, "you're right, we do."

"Like I was saying," Rodney continued, his voice calmer, "the strong energy source probably is where Sheppard and Cooper are being held. I'll make a better determination when I get to the planet."

"Lieutenant," Elizabeth turned her attention to Ford, "what do you think?"

Ford swiveled back and forth in his chair. "Ma'am, I think Bates is right. A small, covert team stands the best chance. With any luck, if it is a hive ship, most of the Wraith are still hibernating."

"And if they're not?" She stared hard at Ford.

"Then it could get a little… hairy," Ford answered cautiously. "But that's a risk we're going to have to take."

She sighed. She leaned forward and rested her arms on the table, her gaze distant, as she weighed their options. There were so many unknowns. What was the location of the two missing men? How many Wraith would they face? Were their people even alive? Was it even the right planet in the first place?

_But that's a risk we're going to have to take._

Ford's words haunted her. There were so many risks… so many uncertainties. She shook her head. They had to try. They had a chance to rescue Major Sheppard and Corporal Cooper… and sometimes a chance was all that was needed. She looked up… and into the expectant faces of everyone in the room. "Okay," she agreed quietly. She looked at Ford. "You have a go. Get your team ready and assembled in the Gateroom."

"Ma'am." Ford stood immediately, and exited the room, Rodney, Stackhouse and Teyla right behind him.

"Ma'am…?" Bates voice trailed off at Elizabeth's raised hand.

"No, Sergeant. You need to stay here. If they don't…." She sighed. "I need an experienced officer to stay behind." She glanced at Bates, whose eyes were fixed on the retreating backs of Ford, Stackhouse, Teyla and Rodney.

After a moment, he nodded and looked over at her. "Yes, ma'am." He stalked out of the conference room, leaving Elizabeth alone with her thoughts.

She slowly walked around the table, her fingertips brushing over it's polished surface. Once again, she'd ordered some of her people into a dangerous situation… people she was supposed to protect… to look out for. All right, yes, they wanted to go… but she still could've said no.

Or could she?

She sighed. Not exactly what she'd expected when she'd agreed to lead this expedition… but, then again, it had been a bold step into the unknown. Pausing in the doorway, she stared at the apex of the inactive Stargate just peeking over the top of the command deck railing. From the first time she'd laid eyes on a 'gate, she'd come to know that the unexpected was to be expected when it came to Ancient devices. She briefly closed her eyes, and prayed she'd made the right decision.

------------------------------

Sergeant Bates stared down at the assembled rescue team, his expression more sour than usual. Standing there, doing nothing… staying behind while Ford and the others charged into danger to try and rescue John and Cooper, frustrated him.

His thoughts lingered on John. Ever since Colonel Sumner had told him about the major, he'd been wary of him. His entire career, Bates had prided himself in always going by the book… being a model soldier. It was a trait that had served him well… and had caught the eye of Colonel Sumner when the Atlantis expedition was being formed. Assigned to SG-5, Bates had extensive off-world experience, and, as anyone who had served with him would attest, he had a cool head in any situation. But, from the first time Bates even talked to John, Bates found that he just couldn't relate to him. In irritation, Bates decided he didn't even want to try. He'd had enough of that with his delinquent older brother… putting up with people he couldn't relate with was a concept he was all too familiar with.

His expression turned wistful as his thoughts switched to his little brother back on Earth. More than once since arriving in Atlantis, he wondered if he'd ever see him again… ever be able to take him to a Lakers game… get to see him grow up.

He shook off the thought and focused again on the rescue team. Once again, he was left standing on Atlantis as someone else went into danger. It was a habit that was becoming disturbingly common since he'd been given the position of Chief of Security. His gaze narrowed as he realized his frustration ran deeper than just being left behind. He wanted to be on that team. Not just because he was a soldier and this was what he was supposed to be doing, but because he wanted to be part of the attempt to rescue John.

He shook his head at the irony, a half smile pulling at one side of his mouth. The Major. He was arrogant, unorthodox, completely lacking in protocol, headstrong….

…and one of the best soldiers Bates had ever served with.

The thought no longer surprised him… although at first, he had been dumbfounded by that realization… even if he never once showed it. Carefully, reserved, he'd watched John in the months since Sumner had died, and grudgingly admitted that, given the situation, John had done a fair job running the military contingent on Atlantis. Bates had come to realize that for all his unorthodox habits, the major was a damn good soldier. He ran a tight ship when he needed to, even if he hid it under shattered protocols and sometimes-flippant remarks. Deep inside the major, intense loyalty, integrity and personal standards remained strong. Once he realized that, Bates found it was something they had. Did he agree with John's ways? Hell no, and he realized he probably never would. They were cut from different cloth. But, through watching him, Bates had found they had a surprising number of core values in common… and that was something he found he could respect.

He watched as the Stargate engaged, and Ford's team disappeared through the event horizon. He sighed deeply, his fingers drumming on the railing. The next time that wormhole engaged, Ford had better bring John back.

---------------------------------------

John paced.

Hours had passed, yet the Wraith had not come back. He paused in front of the entrance to his cell and banged his fist on the bars in frustration. Everything. Every idea, every thought, every inspiration had failed. If there was a way to escape the cell, he couldn't find it… and the thought grated on him, intensifying his frustration. Movement caught his eye and he pulled in a deep breath as, once again, three guards and the male Wraith stalked down the long corridor towards him.

Parting the bars of the cell, the Wraith male sneered at him. "You will come with me."

John stared evenly back. What the hell did he have to lose? "No." His voice was quiet but assertive.

The wraith snarled and struck him hard in the chest, sending him reeling backwards.

He flailed his arms to no avail as he slammed into the wall. The impact stole his breath as he crumpled to the floor. Noisily, he forced air back into his lungs and looked up. Before he could react, two guards grabbed him and hauled him to his feet.

Nose to nose with the male, he mustered as much hatred and strength he could find. "Is that the best you can do?" he croaked.

The male smiled. "The Master tires of these games, human. That was only a taste of what is to come."

Once again, John found himself being roughly hauled from the cell and down the long hallway to meet with Fred. This time there was no leverage… no injured soldier under John's command to protect. It was just him and Fred. A coldness crept into John's gut as he felt his death approaching. There was no reason this time… no excuse for Fred to let John live… and he knew it. Oddly, he was calm, and he wondered if part of him didn't believe he was about to die. He immediately rejected the idea. He knew he was going to die. There was no escape.

Despite the guard's strong grip and rough treatment, he still lifted his head proudly and met Fred's gaze as they entered the large room once again. He stared at Fred defiantly… challenging. He would meet his death with strength, and no damned Wraith would break his will. He remained motionless as the guard released him and walked away. He briefly glanced at two other guards and the stunners they pointed directly at him. He stood his ground.

As if he read his mind, Fred grabbed a stunner from the nearest guard and pointed it at John. "You will tell me of Atlantis."

"Go to hell," John spat, his gaze unwavering.

Fred snarled and fired the stunner.

John bit back a cry of pain as agony swept through him. His whole body clenched and his breath caught in his throat as he staggered… remaining on his feet only by a sheer act of willpower.

After a long moment, the pain passed and John released his pent up breath in a loud gasp. Sweat tickled his brow. Panting slightly, he opened his eyes and once more locked gazes with Fred.

Fred glanced at his stunner and made a small adjustment, before once more staring at John. "Tell me how many people are on Atlantis."

"No." John whispered, his gaze never wavering.

Fred fired again.

This time, no amount of willpower could keep John on his feet… or stop the strangled cry that escaped his throat. Hearing his cry echo around him, he clenched his fists, and fell to his knees, his head falling back as pain shot through him. Worse than before, the agony tore another cry from him.

Again it passed… and again John met Fred's gaze. He slowly stood, sweat trickling down his face and his chest heaving. A small part of him panicked as he watched Fred once again adjust the settings on the stunner, but he stood his ground.

"What are Atlantis' defensive capabilities?" Fred pointed the stunner at John.

"I'm not telling you a damn thing, Fred." John smothered the twist of panic in his gut with steeled control. "So why don't you just feed on me and get it over with?"

Fred's smile sent a chill through John. "Because, human, I will break your spirit first… then I will consume your life." He fired again.

Powerless against the agony that gripped him, John again heard the echoes of his own cry as his knees buckled and he fell heavily to the floor. Prone, the pain crippled him, ravaged him… tortured him. His eyes wide and breath stolen, he was helpless to do anything but writhe under the merciless assault by the stun blast. Through blurred vision, he saw Fred advance on him, and fire again.

Caught in the web of his own torment, he couldn't think… couldn't see… couldn't breathe. He thrashed madly, his out of control body desperately trying to escape the pain… the bliss of oblivion called to him, but something kept him from it… stopping him… pulling him away from unconsciousness' warm embrace. He was trapped in a conscious state of torment. For what seemed like an eternity, the agony clung to him, tortured him, tried to break him.

Finally ebbing, the pain began to fade, and he fought back through the haze of primal emotions and forced himself to find his wits. He opened his eyes and looked directly up into Fred's gaze.

"Tell me anything... and I will spare you."

John swallowed hard, his mind scrambling to control the primitive fear that screamed in panic to him. He couldn't handle the pain again… and that primal part of him begged him to do anything to avoid being stunned once more. He swallowed hard and pulled in a ragged breath. Desperation flowed through him, overpowering any rational thought, leaving his logic in its wake. He'd tried compromising… bluffing before, and it hadn't worked, but right now, he didn't care. His whole being shouted its need to make the pain go away… and not to come back – John finally realized the meaning of his POW training. Fred was trying to break him… but he fought back. "There's… a race…. They have a way… to destroy all your ships… at once…." He panted heavily, and bit back any details. As strong as it was, desperation could not overcome his core values… and he wouldn't sell out anyone to the Wraith. Not even the Genii. "We… we have the technology. They have the means… we… we will destroy you." Small at first, but growing in intensity, pride welled within him. It was a bluff, and there was no way the Genii plan could work… but Fred didn't know that.

Fred stared intently at John. "That is not possible. No humans can destroy us." His gaze narrowed. "Who are they?"

John pulled on all the strength he had and kept his voice even. "You scratch my back, I scratch yours." He smiled humorlessly, knowing he had nothing to lose. "I gave you something, now back off."

Fred's lips parted slowly into a sneer, his dark, piercing eyes locked on John's hazel ones. "I lied. I will break you. And when I do, you will tell me all I want to know."

Even with all the strength he could muster, John was barely able to contain his primal fear as he fought to keep his voice steady. "Then I'm not telling you jack shit, Fred." His lips curled back in his own version of a sneer. "We're done talking."

Fred lifted the stunner and abruptly paused… his gaze becoming distant, as if someone was talking to him. His eyes widened, and he hissed before turning and stalking across the room. Several feet away, he paused, turned and looked back at John. "We will continue this later."

John's body felt like lead weights were tied to him. He hardly moved as two guards pulled him to his feet and half carried, half shoved him down the corridor to his cell. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, fear whispered to him. In a moment of mental clarity, John wondered which would be worse, another session with the stunner… or to be fed upon and die.

He barely caught himself as the guards threw him into his cell. As they left, he forced himself to his feet and slowly walked around his cell, knowing that any activity, however small, would help him over the effects of the stun blasts that much faster… while he wondered when they'd come for him again. He swallowed hard, not knowing if the next time he'd be able to resist. It grated at him. The fear… the weakness he felt, insulted him. He turned away from it. It was human, and normal, but was something he refused to tolerate in himself.

---------------------------------------

_You don't leave people behind._

The words repeated in his head as Rodney looked around the desolate planet. He slowly pulled out his LSD and pressed a couple buttons, squinting at the readings.

"McKay?" His eyes continuing to scan the area around them, Ford slowly backed up from his position and stopped next to Rodney.

"That way." Rodney pointed straight ahead, towards the scrubby trees in the distance.

Ford nodded once, curtly. He turned to Stackhouse. "Sergeant, you and Conner have gate duty. Maintain radio silence unless you get two clicks from me."

"Sir," Stackhouse nodded. Never lowering his gun, he positioned himself next to the DHD.

Ford turned in the general direction Rodney had indicated. "McKay, fall in behind me and tell me where to go. Teyla, take our six." He started through the scrub brush and headed towards the trees.

Rodney alternated his attention between the LSD and his surroundings, trying to ignore the knot in his gut. A small part of himself chastised himself for insisting on being here in the first place.

_You've changed, Rodney._

Rodney felt the pang of regret as he remembered Brendan Gaul. The young prodigy had been right… although, at the time, Rodney would never have admitted it. Brushing casually against his thighs, the P-90 he carried only reminded him just how much he'd changed. A year ago, he'd have laughed in the face of anyone who said he'd be carrying an automatic weapon and charging off to hostile planets on rescue missions. Yet here he was. Never mind that had their positions been reversed, John would've been doing the same thing. Rodney shook his head. Being isolated in the Pegasus galaxy had forced him to really see what was important… and that had changed him in ways he'd never imagined.

He latched onto his confidence… confidence sparked by his time on John's team. In the past, his arrogance had been a mask for his insecurity. All his life, a small part of him had doubted if he was right, or good enough, or would fit. Yet, he realized with a start, even though he might be wrong about this planet, he wasn't plagued with insecurity. John had given him that.

He smiled slightly. In hindsight, he wondered if John had seen through his practiced confidence. John had never said anything, but then again, that was the major's style. Rodney shook off his thoughts and concentrated on the LSD. Getting them lost definitely would not be a good thing. "Bear left ten degrees, Ford," he whispered.

"Ten degrees from what?" the Lieutentan whispered back.

Rodney sighed. "From your current heading. Look, just go left until I tell you otherwise." He followed behind Ford, nodding to himself at the LSD display. "Okay, good, now just keep walking."

They continued meandering their way through the trees, Rodney occasionally giving directional changes to Ford as they closed in on the power source. Before long, they reached the edge of the tree line.

"That's it, "Rodney nodded, his gaze alternating between the LSD and the grounded hive ship. He sighed. Despite the dangerous situation, part of him was relieved. "This has to be the right planet."

Ford squatted, waving at Rodney and Teyla to do the same. He pulled out his binoculars and scanned the area. "I don't see any movement. Maybe they're still hibernating."

"It is likely," Teyla nodded in agreement.

"What are you picking up, McKay?" Ford asked.

"Sporadic life forms scattered all over the ship. There's either very few Wraith on that ship, or Teyla's righ and most of them are still asleep."

"Any idea where the Major and Cooper are being held?" Ford lowered his binoculars and glanced at Rodney.

"Nothing I can tell from here."

Ford nodded. "Okay, let's go." Staying crouched, he cautiously moved forward, leading the other two towards the ship.

--------------------------------------------

Time passed, and yet John still paced. As the hours lengthened, he found himself increasingly torn between his intelligence and logic and his primal instincts and base fear that wanted, more than anything, to escape the pain of another stun blast by whatever means necessary. His fear whispered seductively at him to tell the Wraith what they wanted to know… anything to avoid being shot again….

He growled and ran a hand through his hair. Like hell he'd tell them anything. Abruptly, his vision swam, and he had to grab the bars of his cell, just to keep from falling over. Leaning heavily on his hands, his head dropped as he took several deep breaths. Fatigue washed over him… draining him, as the physical needs of his body finally demanded his attention.

Lethargic, he slowly turned and staggered across the cell, his steps heavy and uneven. Exhausted and battered, he leaned against the wall and sank to the floor. He slowly stretched his legs out in front of him, letting his head lolled back, fatigue spreading through him, drowning out any thoughts or feelings in its necessity. For 72 hours, John had fought mentally and physically against the Wraith. At last, his body had reached the end of its endurance. In the face of such a base need, even his willpower was helpless. His eyes slid shut.

"_You let me die!"_

_John turned, shocked as Cooper crossed the control room towards him. _

"_You let me die!"_

_"No! I… couldn't save you!" John shook his head. "Cooper! I tried! There wasn't anything I could do."_

_  
"You let me die!"_

_"No!"_

"_Major…."_

_John looked around, trying to identify the voice._

"_Major!" _

_Louder now, the voice was familiar and demanded his attention._

"Major!"

John's eyes snapped open and he inhaled sharply. For a moment he existed in two places, lingering between his dream world and reality.

"Major!" the voice hissed again.

John slowly turned his head towards the voice… and looked directly into the eyes of Lieutenant Ford. John's mind rebelled, not believing what his eyes were seeing. He blinked hard and looked again… and Ford was still standing there, staring intently. "Ford?" he whispered hesitantly.

"Yes, sir. It's me. We're going to get you out."

Shaking the cobwebs from his mind, John pulled his legs under himself and slowly rose. For a moment, he just stood there, staring, as he tried to convince himself that his team really was here. His gaze flicked to Rodney, who was busy messing with the door controls. He looked at Teyla, who nodded back at him.

Realization dawned on him, forcing away his disbelief. Hope returned as he slowly crossed the cell. "How the hell did you find me?"

Ford smiled and nodded his head towards Rodney. "McKay. He figured out how to pull the last dialed address from M27-194's DHD."

"It was inspired really," Rodney interjected, pausing in his attention to the door. "There were several address but…."

"Rodney," Ford interrupted. "The door?"

Rodney looked back at the control panel. "Right." He continued fiddling with the circuitry.

A hollow smile at Rodney's typical behavior briefly flashed across John's face. He swallowed hard, wincing at his raspy throat. "Water?"

Ford nodded and reached behind his back, pulling his water flask loose and handing it through the bars to John.

John quickly unscrewed the lid and lifted the flask, forcing himself to drink one swallow at a time… and slowly, giving his dehydrated body a chance to adjust.

"Sir, Cooper?" Ford inquired.

Instantly, overwhelming guilt crushed John's small kernel of happiness at being rescued and his scattered pieces of relief that he might yet survive. He bowed his head, a deep frown creasing his features. "He… didn't make it." From the corner of his eye, he saw Ford's shoulders sag… and felt all the more guilty for it.

"Yes, sir."

John took another sip of water, before passing the flask back to Ford.

"Ah!" Rodney exclaimed quietly as he pressed several keys on the LSD.

Abruptly, the bars parted, giving John enough room to squeeze out of the cell.

------------

Rodney smiled in satisfaction as he disconnected his tools from the Wraith circuitry. He slipped them into his vest pocket, turned around…and looked right into John's eyes.

John's hands immediately settled on Rodney's P-90. Rodney glanced down at the scratched and battered fingers, before once more meeting John's gaze. Bloodshot, and underlined with swelling from lack of sleep and water, John's eyes were nonetheless sharp.

Rodney slowly grabbed the gun below John's grip and studied his expression. Beyond the physical strain, there was a hardness… a darkness radiating from their hazel depths that sent an involuntary chill through Rodney.

"Give me the P-90." John's voice was quiet but commanding.

Rodney hesitated, not really sure what to make of what he saw in the Major. He glanced at Ford, whose expression was also worried.

"Now, McKay." John's voice rose slightly in tone.

Not entirely convinced, Rodney still unclipped the gun from his vest and surrendered it to John. "Right."

John quickly and expertly checked the load and paused, his distant gaze fixed on the P-90.

Rodney watched him, looking back and forth between his expression and his white knuckled hands, shaking slightly as his grip continued to tighten.

John looked up at Rodney, and the doctor felt himself pale under his gaze.

Anger and frustration intensified John's expression to a point Rodney had never witnessed. After a moment, John looked away, his demeanor settling. He pulled in a deep breath, his hands stilling. Then he looked back at Rodney. "Which way?"

Rodney pointed down the hallway while he tapped a few keys on the LSD. "That way."

------------------------------------------

John followed along behind Ford, his grip tight on the P-90. Finally… after three days… he again had the power to help himself… and the means to protect himself and his team. He wasn't helpless. Adrenaline surged through him, driving away fatigue and sharpening his senses. He felt hope… optimistic that maybe they'd escape.

But from the recesses of his mind, guilt lingered... whispering to him. Cooper….

He turned away from his guilt. He was alive… he had a chance to escape….

Cooper never had that chance.

John clenched his teeth, forcing his thoughts away from remorse, the immediacy of their situation providing his mind with an escape route. Now was not the time for him to think about those things.

He moved forward to walk side by side with Ford. "Update me, Lieutenant," he whispered as they slowly walked along.

"The gate is about a half mile from here, sir, through pretty thick trees. We had to walk in, no puddle jumper. Stackhouse and Conner are waiting for us at the gate."

John nodded. "Good. Okay we…."

"Major!" Rodney hissed, "there's two Wraith…," his voice trailed off as they rounded a corner and all but ran into two Wraith guards.

Instinctively, John fired, dropping one of the guards.

Ford immediately knelt and fired upon the other one, killing the Wraith instantly.

"Right around the corner," Rodney muttered, finishing his thought.

John looked around as the eerie screech of an alarm sounded. "That's it, we need to get out of here, now!" He looked expectantly at Rodney, who nodded and pointed down a long corridor. "That way!"

Side by side with Ford, John quickly trotted down the hallway, Teyla and Rodney hot on his heels.

John ran next to Ford, his intense eyes darting around, alert for any Wraith. He reached an intersection and stopped.

"McKay?" His voice was questioning.

Rodney turned in a circle, his gaze fixed on the LSD. After a moment, he pointed to the lefthand hallway. "This way!"

This time, Ford took lead ahead of John, but only barely.

They rounded another corner and were abruptly met by stunner fire. John reached out a steadying hand as Ford jumped back into him, barely avoiding a stunner blast.

"Crap!" Ford fired off a few shots before John pulled him back behind cover, and then knelt and returned fire around the corner.

John looked about, taking in the lay of the hallway. "Lieutenant? There's a spot on the other side of the hall. Cover me."

Ford nodded slightly. "Yes, sir."

John glanced at Teyla and Rodney. "Rodney, watch behind us. Teyla take my place." Without waiting for a response, John turned back and took a deep breath. "Now, Ford!"

As Ford sprayed the hallway with gunfire, John sprinted across the open space and flattened himself against the opposite wall. Peeking around the small outcropping that provided him with shallow cover, he fired several rounds into a Wraith guard, who fell motionless to the floor. His eyes widened as two other Wraith stared back at him. One was a guard, but the other….

John felt as if someone had punched him in the gut as he stared into the dark eyes of Fred.

Standing behind the guard for cover, Fred snarled loudly and pointed.

"Sir!" Ford's strangled cry grabbed John's attention. His body rigid and shaking, Ford dropped his gun and staggered out into the open.

Tearing his gaze from the Lieutentant, John sought out Teyla. "Shoot it!" he ordered. He turned back and opened fire on the guard himself, the combination of his shots and Teyla's dropping it.

He stepped out in the open and continued firing, his bullets propelling Fred backwards and to the ground.

Teyla and Rodney dashed out and grabbed Ford's arms as he staggered, released from Fred's control. Passing them, John sprinted down the hall to the fallen Wraith. Holding his gun close, he stared down the sights at Fred, who glared back at him.

Rage flowed freely through John. The image of Cooper dying filled his memory…fueled his anger. His face twitched, spite clouding his thoughts… and hampering his judgment.

"Kill me, human," Fred hissed. "Kill me now."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a rational voice shouted at John. _Don't make the same mistake! Don't kill him! You'll wake them all!_ But his rage smothered it.

"Major, no!" Rodney stopped next to him.

His trigger finger shaking, John stared down at the wounded Wraith lord. Cooper's tortured screams echoed in his head, drowning out Rodney's words.

"Kill me, human," Fred hissed. "The others will see to your demise. We will prey upon our home feeding grounds... then we will come for you."

"Major! Don't!" Rodney insisted. "It's just what he wants!"

Rage surged through John. "Damn it, McKay!" he all but spat the words out., "He killed Cooper and Bower!"

"That doesn't give you license to condemn this entire sector! We're talking millions of lives here!" Rodney countered hotly.

John fixed an angered glare on Rodney, but the doctor's intense gaze was unwavering.

"Dr. McKay is right, Major," Teyla reasoned quietly from behind him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Johncould see Ford nodding in agreement.

He tore his gaze from Rodney and gave a look of death to Fred. Unfairness cramped his gut, as deep down, he knew they were right. His hands shook, rage... helplessness... frustration threatening to overwhelm him. "Son of a…," he whispered through clenched teeth.

In one fluid motion, he lowered his gun, and trotted down the hallway thaty Rodney had indicated led outside . Had he looked back, he would have seen the worried looks the other three exchanged before they quickly followed after him. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the corridor ahead of him, and forced himself to focus on escaping. He knew Rodney was right. Leaving Fred alive was the smart thing to do… but it didn't feel that way.Deep in his mind, he carried the guilt of Cooper's death… Gaul's … Abram's… Sumner's. He had promised himself that some day he'd atone for their deaths, and yet, when that chance had presented itself, he'd let it pass. Let Fred go… let Cooper's death go unpunished. The dead cried out their injustice to him, and all the rationalizations in the world didn't silence them.

"Major!"

Rodney's urgent voice stopped JohnHe looked back. "What?" He glanced at the LSD, his eyes widening at a group of dots moving their direction from an intersecting hallway. He looked around, quickly taking in their surroundings. He pointed to a small outcropping, just around the corner from their position. "Ford, take position there. Fire as soon as you see them. McKay, Teyla, you're with me." He backed down a narrow hallway, opposite Ford's position, and perpendicular to the approaching Wraith.

John lifted his gun as Teyla knelt just in front of him, providing him with a clean line of fire.

The Wraith had no time to react. The instant they rounded the corner, Ford, Teyla andJohn opened fire, ambushing them. It was over in a matter of seconds.

"McKay?" John glanced back.

"Exit is down the corridor to your right, Major," Rodney immediately responded.

John led the way past the dead Wraith and, before long, they exited the ship into the dark, night-time air.

"This way, sir." Ford took point, leading the team across a vast clearing and back into the trees.

John abruptly looked up, his sight blocked by thick, twisted branches as an all-too-familiar screeching sound passed over them. "Darts," he muttered.

Ford glanced back. "Yes, sir sounds like it. They won't be able to locate us as long as we're in the trees."

"Doesn't matter," John shook his head, "they know we're headed for the Gate. There's nowhere else to go." His eyes fixed on Ford's radio as it abruptly clicked twice.

Ford immediately reached for the call button, his hand stopped by John's. Nodding, Ford pulled the radio from his vest pocket and handed it to him.

"Go ahead, Sergeant," John responded.

"Major?" Stackhouse's voice sounded relieved,."It's good to hear your voice."

John smiled slightly at Stackhouse's distraction. "It's good to be heard, Sergeant. Now, report."

"Yes sir," Stackhouse responded. "Conner and I have taken cover near the gate. I don't think we've been spotted by the Darts yet, but they're definitely searching the area for you."

"I know, we hear them, but they can't spot us in the trees. How far from the DHD are you?" John waved Ford on as they once more made their way through the thick trees.

"About 25 feet, sir. Conner and I are hunkered down in some bushes. As long as the Wraith don't come in on foot, we shouldn't be spotted."

John sighed. "Stand by." He stopped and looked at Ford. "As soon as we activate the gate, the Wraith aren't going to give us much time to get away."

Ford nodded. "We need to meet up with Stackhouse and Conner and then all go through together."

"Yep." John once again clicked the radio call button. "Sergeant, stay put, we're on our way to you right now. When we're close to your position, I'll radio you again."

"Yes, sir," Stackhouse responded.

John lifted his P-90 and stared off into the woods. "Lead the way, Lieutenant." He glanced back. "Teyla? Take our six."

Following behind Ford, John's gaze continued to wander overhead, the circling Darts reminding him that the hardest part of this escape could still be coming. He ducked under a branch and once again looked upward as the whine of a Dart passed overhead.

"Major," Rodney whispered.

"What?" John chanced a look back at Rodney, and the LSD in his hands. He stared briefly at the display for a moment, and then snapped a quick look at Ford.

"Lieutenant."

Ford turned and jogged back to where John, Rodney and Teyla stood.

John stared at the Ancient device, his gaze narrowing. Four motionless dots were at the center of the screen… with a dozen more slowly moving towards them.

"They're coming on foot," Rodney whispered. "I can't really tell how far away they are yet."

John looked around the woods, his penetrating gaze searching for any sign of their pursuers. He sighed and nodded. "Okay, let's get moving again then. McKay? Keep me posted on their position."

"Right." Rodney pushed a few buttons and continued to watch the screen.

John fixed Ford with a hard stare. "Double time it, Lieutenant."

Ford hesitated, his gaze wandering over John. "Sir? Can you…?"

"I can take it," John interrupted. "Now move."

"Sir." Ford nodded once and trotted off into the trees.

------------------------

Although he'd never admit it, John was glad when they finally stopped running. Fighting to keep the stagger from his stride, he halted next to Ford and peered out into the clearing. He looked up as another Dart flew in low over the Stargate, before circling back over the trees and out of sight. "This is going to be tricky," he muttered as he pulled out the radio.

"Yes, sir," Ford agreed.

"Stackhouse, do you copy?" John looked around, trying to spot where the two soldiers had taken cover. He nodded as his gaze settled on a large group of bushes not far from the DHD.

"Yes, sir," Stackhouse responded.

"We're in the trees about fifty feet from your position. We have Wraith on foot closing in behind us. I want you to get to the DHD and dial Atlantis. We'll cover you."

"Yes, sir. The Wraith seem to be flying on some sort of pattern. Near as I can tell, we'll have about 3 minutes after a Dart makes a pass before the next one comes by."

"Copy that." John looked around. "Okay, wait for the next one to fly by then move on the DHD."

"Yes sir."

John looked over his shoulder. "Teyla? Keep a sharp eye out for those Wraith."

"I will," Teyla whispered, as she scanned the forest behind them.

John stared at the Stargate, his fingers impatiently drumming on the chamber of his P-90. Escape… freedom… and end to this nightmare were so close. And yet, he'd been this close to the Stargate before… only to have escape slip through his fingers. Not this time. This time they would escape. This time he'd lead his team to safety.

All of his team.

John looked up as, once again, a low flying Dart screamed overhead before continuing on out of sight. Switching his gaze back to the DHD, John saw Stackhouse emerge from the bushes and run towards it. "That's it, let's go."

As one, the four of them ran from the trees, just as the gate engaged.

Quickly covering the distance from the trees to the DHD, John nodded in satisfaction as he watched Stackhouse pull out his GDO and send his IDC transmission to Atlantis.

Staggered to a stop next to the DHD, he heard a stunner blast slam into the ground behind him. He whirled around, immediately firing on several Wraith who appeared out of the trees.

"Go!" John shouted as he concentrated fire on one Wraith, dropping it.

The six humans ran for the gate, each one periodically stopping to fire at the approaching Wraith.

"Sergeant, the shield is down." John was momentarily distracted by the sound of Elizabeth's voice over the radio.

"Copy that, Doctor," Stackhouse immediately responded. "We have the Major, and we're coming in hot!"

"Corporal Cooper?"

John briefly felt the pang of regret return to him at Elizabeth's hesitant question. He silently pushed it away and channeled his frustration through his P-90, dropping a Wraith guard instantly.

"Negative." Stackhouse's reply was curt.

As one, all six backed up the short incline to the active gate, continuing to fire upon the pursuing Wraith.

Feeling the charge of the event horizon right behind him, a small, satisfied smile popped to John's face. He fired three more shots, and backed through the wormhole.

--------------------------

Emerging from the wormhole and into Atlantis' Gateroom, John staggered, barely catching himself as the shield abruptly sprang to life.

After a minute, three distinct impacts flashed on the shield, before the gate disengaged and the shield deactivated.

John lowered his gun and looked around, his mind momentarily rebelling at the reality of once again being in Atlantis.

He'd made it back.

There was a moment, not solong ago, when John had been sure he was going to die. To be back… to be standing in Atlantis again… was a reality he almost couldn't accept.

He closed his eyes and pulled a deep, cleansing breath in through his nose, before letting it escape through his mouth. He opened his eyes, stared at the Atlantis Stargate, and smiled.

"Major!"

Elizabeth's light voice grabbed his attention and he turned, watching her skip down the stairs from the control deck two at a time, Carson right behind her.

John stared wordlessly at her, his smile lingering at the clear, relieved expression dominating her features.

She stopped in front of him, her eyes widening as she took in his appearance, concern edging out the relief on her face. "John…?"

He waved his hand briefly. "I'm okay, Elizabeth."

"Hmm," Carson sounded unconvinced. "All the same, I want you in the infirmary immediately."

John sighed, the surge of adrenaline that had sustained him through the escape beginning to ebb from his body. He couldn't find the will or a reason to argue with Carsoon… and the determined look Elizabeth was giving him indicated it would be useless anyway. "Okay." He eyed the waiting medical team, just to the left of the Stargate. "Just don't try and put me on a gurney." He arched a brow and looked back to Carson, who smiled slightly.

"Don't worry, I'll let ye walk."

John looked around, his gaze meeting the concerned expression of each of his team members. He smiled, and held each one of their gazes for a long moment. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, sir." Ford beamed.

A warm smile graced Teyla's features.

Stackhouse and Conner both grinned and nodded.

"Well, the Atlantis MENSA chapter would never forgive me for not bringing back our honorary member… not that you really care about that." Rodney looked around, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation.

John slowly walked over to stand just in front of him. Handing the doctor's P-90 back , he locked gazes with him. Once again, in a pinch, Rodney had found a way to do the seemingly impossible, and saved his life in the process. Gratitude warmed John's features as he held Rodney's gaze and nodded slightly, a gesture Rodney returned.

No words were needed.

John turned back to Carson and sighed. "I don't suppose I could just go to my quarters?"

Carson nodded. "Aye, maybe… after you come by the infirmary and I check you out."

John crossed the Gateroom, the sound of Ford briefing Elizabeth on the rescue fading behind. The adrenaline continued to drain from his body and, as he came down off that high, he felt his pace slow. Taking the steps one at a time, he stopped on the mid-level landing and glanced at Carson. "Sorry Doc. Guess I'm pretty tired."

Carson nodded back. "It's alright, Major, just take your time."

John pulled in a deep breath and looked around the empty landing. Unbidden memories washed over him.

"_Bower, Cooper, feel up to a little off world excursion today?" _

"_Yes sir.," Both men answered in unison._

"_Good. You're with us."_

"Major?"

Guilt stormed through John, as Carson grabbed hos arm. The sight of the empty landing only fueled his emotions.

"_Sergeant! Bower talk to me! Bower!"  
_

"_Sir…," Bower's voice was strained and filled with pain, "I can't… he's in my head! Forcing me… can't resist… can't get away…._

Bower's pain-filled scream echoed in John's head.

Powerless against the memories that flooded him, his breath came fast.

"Major? Are ye alright?" Carson's voice sounded distant, disconnected.

_His eyes hazed with death, Cooper looked at John one last time. _

_The image burned itself instantly into John's head. As life fled from Cooper's eyes, John whispered, "I'm sorry."_

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"What?"

Carson's question barely reached John's ears. Exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally, he felt his knees buckle but, instead of falling, he was slowly eased to the floor by Carson's strong grip.

"Easy, Major, you're all right." Carson squatted next to where he knelt and John felt him grab his wrist. "Your pulse is pretty fast, Major. Try and take some deep breaths." Carson's voice was calm and soothing, and John tried to do his bidding. A sheen of sweat tickled his brow as he pulled in several deep breaths, fighting his lightheadedness. Somewhere in the background, he heard rapidly approaching footsteps behind him.

"Carson?"

Elizabeth's voice sounded concerned. John wanted to tell her was okay, but it took all he had just to keep from falling over, and his voice was lost to a large lump in his throat.

"Major?"

John felt another set of strong hands on his other arm, and caught a glimpse of Rodney's concerned expression as he knelt next to John. His eyes slid shut as he pulled in another ragged breath.

"Carson what's wrong with him?" Rodney demanded.

"He's exhausted, battered and dehydrated at the very least, Rodney, and from the looks of that bump on his forehead, he's probably got a concussion. I'll know more when we get him to the infirmary."

John felt Carson's hand pass quickly over his chest. "I don't see any sign that the Wraith fed on him."

"Didn't…." John managed a hoarse whisper.

"Thank God." Concern still colored Elizabeth's voice, but John could hear her relief.

Feeling more in control, he looked up at Carson. "I'm… okay." Pulling his legs under himself, he slowly stood. He tried to shake himself loose of Rodney and Carson, but they held fast to his arms. "Really."

"I'll be the judge of that," Carson responded. "Can you walk? I want to get you to the infirmary."

John slowly nodded, as he pulled in a deep breath. "Yeah."

"All right," Carson nodded. "Nice and easy now. We're in no hurry."

John turned towards the exit leading to the infirmary, but was stopped by Elizabeth's soft words.

"Major?" Her warm smile pushed the concern from her expression. 'It's good to have you back."

John nodded slowly and forced a small smile through his exhaustion. "It's good to be back." He mustered as much reassurance as he could. "I'm okay, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth nodded. "Glad to hear it, Major."


	3. Book II Chapter I

_**Part 2 – Imprisonment**_

_Acceptance of what has happened is the first step to overcoming the consequences of any misfortune. _

_William James_

John stared down the long hallway. For what seemed like forever, he'd been slowly making his way to the infirmary, Carson tailing him, watching his every move. Each step was a challenge, as his body made its condition known. Unsupported by adrenaline, his legs felt leaden. No longer in plain sight of anyone but Carson, John found that he couldn't keep up strong appearances. "I'm sorry, Doc," John whispered, "I just can't seem…."

Carson waved absently at the Major, his concerned face full of compassion. "'Tis alright, Major. I have nowhere else to be."

Barely acknowledging Carson's reassurance, John felt numb…disconnected. Surges of guilt came and went, their presence strangely reassuring. John was baffled at the thought. It was as if the guilt gave him something to feel… countered the numbness, reminded him he was still alive….

…And that Cooper wasn't.

At that moment, John wasn't sure what was worse, the numbness or the guilt. He grabbed the nearby wall, his hand sliding across it as a wave of lightheadedness came over him. He felt Carson's solid grip on his free arm. John pulled in a ragged breath and ran a hand over his face. He glanced at Carson, who was staring at him intently. 

"Major, are you sure you don't…?"

"No." John abruptly cut off the doctor. He knew exactly what Carson was driving at. "No stretchers." He stared as evenly at the doctor as he could manage, watching as Carson pursed his lips, before nodding slightly.

"Okay," Carson's compassionate gaze hardened slightly, "but anymore episodes like that, and I won't take no for an answer, Major, even if I have to have Martin physically put you on the stretcher himself."

John's eyes widened slightly at the thought of the 6'8" ex-linebacker sergeant following Carson's orders instead of his. A small smile crept onto John's face as he once again slowly made his way down the hallway. "I outrank him, Doc," John countered.

Carson grunted. "Not now you don't. You're my patient. I give the orders here."

John looked up, and slowly continued his trek down the hallway. Finally reaching the infirmary, he sighed as the doors parted in front of him. From the moment he stepped across the threshold into the infirmary, Carson immediately and completely took over. John looked down as Carson's strong grip once again settled on his arm. He felt himself being guided across the room towards a bed. He glanced at Carson as the doctor looked over his shoulder. 

"Lansing, I want a full blood workup on the Major. And get an IV started. Hang a liter of Ringers to begin with." Carson turned to one of the other medics. "Once the Major is ready, I want a full skull series, too. Let's make sure we don't have anything more serious than a concussion here."

Carson gently pushed John into a sitting position on the bed, and pulled a makeshift privacy curtain around them. He knelt and unlaced John's boots.

"Doc, you don't have to do that." John leaned forward to stand, but abruptly found himself stopped by Carson's restraining hand. 

"Stay put. We're going to get you out of these clothes and into bed, Major, and you're not leaving it until I say so."

John rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably. "I haven't exactly had a chance to get a shower in a while…."

Carson dropped both of John's boots by the bed and paused, a reassuring smile crossing his face. "It's okay. We'll worry about a shower later, when I'm sure you're okay."

John sighed. "Doc, I'm fine, really."

"I'll be the judge of that." Carson's gaze hardened slightly. He waved his hand at John. "Off with the shirt."

John pulled his shirt slowly over his head and dropped it into Carson's hands, but the doctor's gaze was fixed on John's chest and the numerous bruises scattered across his ribcage.

"Ach." Carson looked at John's back, finding similar evidence of the Wraith's treatment. "Looks like we're adding a full chest series too." 

"They don't feel broken, Doc," John answered, bracing his hand on the gurney. Just sitting up was proving to be more and more difficult. He glanced up as Lansing came around the edge of the curtain. Slightly uncomfortable, John looked at Carson who nodded.

Carson smiled at the female medic. "Lansing, lass, will you give us a minute to get the Major settled into bed?"

Lansing glanced at Carson before looking at John and smiling, her expression understanding. "Sure." She stepped back behind the curtain, leaving John and Carson alone.

John flashed a half smile at Beckett. "Thanks, Doc."

Carson smiled, mischief flickering in his blue eyes. "None of that until you're stronger."

John's half smile turned to a full one for a moment, Carson's light tease briefly driving away some of his gloom. "Spoilsport," he whispered.

Before long, John found himself lying on the bed, his soiled and nearly destroyed clothes replaced by a fresh set of scrubs. After a thorough exam by Carson, at least a dozen X-rays, and several vials of blood, John found himself alone for the moment. He glanced at the IV, the even, slow drip almost hypnotic. His eyelids drooped, as his body seemed to melt into the bed. The voices around him faded to distant buzzing, as exhaustion overtook him and John fell into a deep sleep.

------------------------------

Elizabeth stood quietly, watching as Ford, Simms, Stackhouse, Teyla and McKay all filed from the conference room. She crossed her arms and sighed. Her mind raced, trying to take in all they had told her in the hour long debriefing. She was saddened at the loss of Corporal Cooper, but part of her was amazed. Stunned that any of them had gotten out alive, shocked that John was still alive… and relieved they had him back.

She uncrossed her arms and slowly walked around the table, her fingers running over the smooth surface, until she came to the chair opposite where she had been sitting. John's chair. The place he always sat for briefings, conferences and meetings, but disturbingly empty today. Elizabeth was mildly startled to realize just how much she relied on his very direct attitude, his black and white take on things, and his unwavering support. She drew strength from him, and until that strength had been taken from her, she didn't realize just how much she cherished it.

Sighing deeply, Elizabeth turned and walked out of the conference room. She crossed the command center and headed for the back stairs. "I'll be in the infirmary." She briefly made eye contact with Grodin, who nodded slightly. Walking past Rodney, Elizabeth was surprised as he fell in next to her.

"Care for some company?"

Elizabeth glanced at Rodney, a small smile briefly flashing across her face. "Sure." She quickly descended the stairs and headed for the infirmary. Silence hung between her and Rodney as she strode down the long hallway. Not that she had much to say anyway. Preoccupied with John's condition, nothing else seemed important enough to comment on.

"He's tough you know," Rodney abruptly spoke.

Elizabeth stopped and faced him. "What?"

Uncomfortable outside his acerbic, caustic environment, Rodney fidgeted slightly. "The Major. He's strong. He'll… he'll be okay."

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, he will." Her voice was confident, even though deep inside, she wasn't sure. She turned and continued down the hallway and through the doors into the infirmary. Just inside, she stopped, her eyes fixed on John's sleeping form. His head was turned slightly to the side, and he seemed in a peaceful deep sleep. Elizabeth tore her eyes from him as Beckett crossed the room to them.

"Carson," she smiled slightly. "How is he?"

Preoccupied, Beckett glanced at John. "Physically? He's a little battered, but nothing serious. A couple of bruised ribs, moderate concussion, and lots of bruises and abrasions, but he should be up and on his feet in a few days. I don't anticipate any complications from any of his physical injuries, and I don't see any sign that the Major was fed on by the Wraith. He's sleeping quietly for the moment; he's exhausted."

Weir's gaze narrowed at Beckett's hesitant tone of voice. "That's good news… but?"

Beckett sighed. "Emotionally may be a different story." He looked at Elizabeth, his expression full of concern. "There are some anomalies in his blood work."

"But you just said…" Rodney broke in, only to be cut off by Beckett. 

"Aye, physically, he's going to be fine. The anomalies are consistent with what we've seen in victims of Wraith stunner blasts, but much more predominant." Beckett locked gazes with Elizabeth. "Near as I can tell, the Major has been repeatedly shot by a Wraith stunner."

Elizabeth glanced at Rodney, whose gaze was as grim as Beckett's. "What?"

Paling, Rodney looked at Elizabeth. "From what we've been able to determine, Wraith stunners have various different settings ranging from unconsciousness to…" Rodney swallowed hard, "painful consciousness."

Elizabeth stared back at him, trying to grasp what the two men were saying. Her eyes widened as she made the connection. "Torture?" she whispered.

His face grim, Beckett nodded slowly. "Aye."

"Probably trying to get information on Atlantis," Rodney muttered, his gaze drifting to John.

"My God." Elizabeth closed her eyes against the thought. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and looked at Beckett. "What's this going to do to him, Carson?"

Beckett sighed. "I'm not positive. Reactions to events like this can vary from individual to individual, but I'm definitely concerned about Acute Stress Syndrome, possibly even PTSD. The Major has endured a very traumatic experience. He may have problems dealing with it emotionally."

"Not to mention, Cooper," Rodney added, his own voice quiet.

"Aye," Beckett nodded. He nodded at Elizabeth's questioning look. "If the Major witnessed Cooper's death, his emotional hardship could be that much more difficult to deal with."

"What do we do?" Elizabeth whispered, unable to tear her eyes from the sleeping Major.

Beckett crossed his arms. "I'll talk to Dr. Heightmeyer about this, but I suspect we watch him for a few days and see how he's coping. She'll probably want to speak to him too."

Elizabeth nodded slightly before she slowly crossed the room to stand by John's bed. Looking down at his bruised face, Elizabeth found herself fighting tears as she thought about all he'd been forced to endure at the hands of the Wraith. John was strong and, deep down, Elizabeth urgently prayed he was strong enough to get through this.

------------------------------------------

_Panicked, John watched… helpless to do anything. "NO!" He pulled fruitlessly against his guard as Cooper's strangled scream echoed through the large room. "Leave him alone you son of a bitch!"_

_The Wraith Lord sneered. His poised hand descended on Cooper's chest and he once again fed._

"_You bastard!" John fought the guard's strong hold. "I gave you something! Leave him alone!"_

_His eyes hazed with death, Cooper looked at John one last time._

_The Wraith Lord fired again._

_Consumed by pain, John writhed, powerless to fight. His breath stolen, he couldn't even scream out in agony…._

_Fred's lips parted slowly into a sneer, his dark, piercing eyes locked on John's hazel ones. "I will break you, and when I do, you will tell me all I want to know."_

"_No!" Sheppard struggled, trying to escape. "No! I won't!"_

_Fred grabbed his arm forcefully. "You will! I will break you, human!" He fired again…._

_--------------------------_

Elizabeth's gaze narrowed as John began to stir, his breathing quickening. She turned around. "Carson!"

In an instant, Carson and Rodney were at her side.

Carson grabbed John's arm, trying to protect the IV as the Major's thrashing became more violent. "Damn it! He's dreaming! Major!"

"No… NO!" John's shaky voice strengthened.

"John!" Elizabeth added her voice to Carson's as Rodney stepped around the bed and grabbed John's other arm.

Holding John's arm with one hand, Rodney placed his free hand on John's shoulder and shook it. "Major!" 

The effect was instantaneous.

"NO!" John roared. Bolting straight up in bed, he lashed out, sending Rodney reeling into the nearby crash cart. Rodney hit the floor hard, before sliding to a stop.

"JOHN!" Elizabeth shouted in alarm.

John froze, his eyes fixing on Elizabeth, confusion and terror clouding them. Panting heavily, he looked around, his gaze panicked, as if he expected something to leap out at him any second.

Elizabeth reached out, lightly touching his leg. She jerked er hand away as John flinched, his gaze flying back to her. "John," she repeated, her quiet voice reassuring. "It's okay."

"Take it easy, Major," Carson added, staring evenly back as John's gaze fixed on him. "It was only a nightmare. You're alright now."

John visibly relaxed as the fog of confusion lifted from his hazel eyes. He flopped back against the pillows and pulled in a deep breath. "Damn," he whispered.

Carson carefully let go of his arm and looked up as Rodney gradually stood. Rubbing his left shoulder, Rodney slowly walked back to John's bed.

John looked at Rodney. "Sorry."

On the verge of an acerbic retort, Rodney bit back his words and nodded slightly. "It's, ah… okay."

John closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "It was so real, it…." His voice trailed off as he opened his eyes and looked around at them. Apparently uncomfortable with the silence, he turned his head away and stared at the opposite wall.

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Try and get some rest, Major. We'll be back later." Looking up first at Carson, then at Rodney, Elizabeth motioned towards the door. She walked away from John's bed and crossed the room, Rodney and Carson flanking her.

A safe distance from John's bed, she stopped and turned to face them. "Carson? He was so…." Elizabeth groped for the right words. "He'll never admit it, but when he looked at me, he was… terrified."

Carson nodded. "Aye, I was afraid of this. I'll make sure he's resting again, then I'm going to have a chat with Heightmeyer."

Elizabeth nodded. "We both will. When you and Dr. Heightmeyer are ready, meet me in my office."

Carson nodded. "Will do." He glanced at Rodney. "You all right?"

Elizabeth's gaze narrowed as she stared at Rodney, whose eyes were fixed on John. Rodney seemed a million miles away.

"Rodney?" Carson prompted.

Rodney's head abruptly turned. "Carson. Yes. I'm fine."

Elizabeth smiled briefly at him before returning her attention to Carson. "I'll be in my office."

-------------------------

Elizabeth watched as Dr. Kate Heightmeyer paced in front of the broad desk Elizabeth sat behind.

"You have good cause to be concerned, Carson." Heightmeyer sighed. "From what you've been able to tell me, Major Sheppard has endured a very traumatic event. It will affect him emotionally, but how much and in what ways we won't know for at least a few days, until things sink in a little for him." 

"What about the dream?" Elizabeth asked quietly. "He was… terrified."

Heightmeyer paused in her pacing and nodded at Elizabeth. "It's not uncommon for people who experience such traumatic events to have nightmares. Major Sheppard's mind is trying to cope with what's happened to him. Dreaming is one way our minds do that."

Elizabeth nodded. She looked at Beckett. "Carson, how long do you think you'll keep him in the infirmary?"

Beckett sighed and leaned back in his chair. "At least a couple days, maybe three or four just to be safe, and to be sure he's resting the way he should."

"How long until he'd be physically fit for active duty?" Elizabeth's expression was pensive as she leaned forward on her desk.

"Four, maybe five days for light duty, another week for regular, active status," Beckett replied.

"I'd like to speak with him at least once before then," Heightmeyer interrupted. She folded her hands in front of her. "I think we need to know where he stands, emotionally, before clearing him for any duty."

"Agreed." Elizabeth nodded.

Heightmeyer resumed pacing. "Dr. Weir, we're not going to know, for a while, exactly how he is dealing with his ordeal. We're going to have to watch him and see how he does."

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and considered the psychologist's words. "Maybe I should keep him off active duty until we know?"

"You'll have a devil of a time convincing him of that," Beckett replied. He smiled at Elizabeth's determined look.

"I can handle that, if needs be." Elizabeth arched her eyebrows at Beckett.

"I don't think that's necessary unless he's clearly having issues," Heightmeyer interjected. "I'll be able to tell at least that much as soon as I talk to him. Routine, work and something to do may be the best thing for him."

Elizabeth slowly nodded. "Okay. Thank you." She watched as both Beckett and Heightmeyer filed from her office. Elizabeth folded her hands on her lap and let her mind wander. Just how would they know if John was okay? And how could she trust to send him off world if she didn't know that for sure? She pushed the thoughts from her mind. They'd have to take this one step at a time.

--------------------------

"Doc, if you don't let me out of here, I'm gonna break something!" John sat on the edge of his bed and glared at the doctor.

Carson returned the look. "Major, you need your rest. It's only been two days. Now I want you in that bed for at least two more."

"I feel fine!" John slid off the bed and stood, all the while continuing to glower at Carson.

"You're not fine," Carson stood toe to toe with John. The doctor pointed at the bed. "Two days."

John arched an eyebrow. "Two days in my quarters."

"Do ye think this is a negotiation?" Carson glared at John. "Bed! Two days!"

John's expression turned slightly playful. "One. And I'll spend the other in my quarters." He raised his hand in a placating gesture. "I promise." He arched his brows in a pleading manner.

"Ach." Carson rolled his eyes and chuckled. "I suppose we have to reach some compromise, or you'll just charm your way past poor Lansing over there and leave anyway."

John flashed Carolyn Lansing a half smile, his grin broadening as she blushed and looked away. He looked back at Carson as the doctor pushed on his chest.

"Bed!"

Sighing, John relented and sat back down on his bed. He pulled a light sheet over himself and settled back against the pillows.

"That's a good patient," Carson teased. He grinned at John's frown. Carson's expression turned slightly serious. "Besides, Dr. Heightmeyer wants to talk to you this afternoon."

The glint of humor disappeared from John's eyes. His frown deepened. "Heightmeyer? Why?"

"Why?" Carson's eyes widened slightly. "Major, whether or not you admit it, you had a hell of an experience. Dr. Weir…."

"Elizabeth," John whispered and nodded to himself.

"And I," Carson insisted, "not to mention Dr. Heightmeyer, we all just want to make sure you're all right."

His expression intense, John looked up at Carson. "And I don't have a say in this?"

Carson sighed. "Major, it's not as big of an ordeal as you seem to think it is. Most branches of the military would call something like this SOP and you know it."

John pursed his lips and looked away. It was as if they didn't trust him to know whether or not he was okay, and that irritated him. He pushed down his ire. "Yeah." His tone was unconvinced, but conceding. "They would."

"Alright then," Carson smiled. His gaze narrowed as his smile faded slightly. "If there's nothing wrong with you, Major, then you have nothing to worry about."

John watched the doctor walk away. Tension crept into his shoulders and he rolled his head slightly before easing it back on his pillow. He chastised himself for feeling anxious about speaking to Heightmeyer. He pushed the feelings away and grabbed his thick hardcover book. Immersing himself in War and Peace, John refused to think about anything else.

-------------------------

John's irritation returned with the arrival of Dr. Heightmeyer. He slowly set his book down and stared evenly at her as she crossed the infirmary to his bed. 

Heightmeyer smiled warmly at him and stood at the foot of his bed. "Major Sheppard."

Guarded, John stared at her smiling face, suspicion rising in him. "Dr. Heightmeyer."

Heightmeyer nodded to herself and walked up next to him. "Relax, Major, this is just a routine chat, nothing else."

_Sure it is. _John pursed his lips and looked away. "Yeah."

Heightmeyer sat in a chair next to him. "How do you feel, Major?"

Inwardly, John chuckled at the standard, predictable, question. He didn't look at her. "Irritated."

"Really?" Heightmeyer crossed her legs and folded her hands on her lap. "Why?"

"Because Beckett won't let me out of here." He arched his brows and looked at her, his expression challenging. It was a light toned reply, but to John's surprise, the real meaning – the agile parry to her question – wasn't lost on her.

Heightmeyer smiled. "I see." Her smile faded. "Tell me about what happened to you and Cooper, Major."

John looked away. He felt like he was in a fencing match and she'd just moved in for the kill. Forced to remember his experiences, anger rose within him, but he suppressed it. He'd lost men under his command, how was he supposed to feel?

"Major?"

John sighed. "There's not much to tell. Cooper and I were captured. The Wraith killed Cooper trying to get me to talk." He glanced at her. He'd been forced to see shrinks before… and could see what was coming. "And before you ask, I do feel angry about it. I lost two good men under my command. But it's nothing I can't handle." John shook his head. "I've seen men die in combat before, Doctor. It's not something I dwell on because it'll tear you up if you do." He stared at her, his expression once more guarded. _Parry._

After a moment, Heightmeyer nodded. "Well, you certainly know exactly what I want to hear." Her gaze narrowed as she stared intently at him.

_Riposte. _John shook his head and sighed. "Look, Doctor, the point here is, I'm fine."

"That was a pretty bad nightmare you had, or so I heard," Heightmeyer countered quietly.

John pursed his lips. She was relentless… responding to each of his statements with one of her own. "People have nightmares, Doctor. Are you going to tell me there's something wrong with my head because of it?" Still looking away, John heard her stand. His lips twitched at the silence that greeted him. Finally, he looked up into her patient expression.

"No, Major, I'm not… not now anyway." She walked to the end of his bed and turned back, giving him a warm, but knowing gaze. "I want you to come talk to me if you _ever_ feel like you need to, okay?"

"Yeah, I will." Deep down, John felt relieved, and knew his comment was a brush off. Once again, looking up at Heightmeyer, he could tell she knew it was too.

Heightmeyer sighed and nodded once before leaving him.

John settled back in his bed and stared at the ceiling. He'd jumped through one more hoop on his way back to active duty. Now all he had to do was get out of the infirmary. John itched to get back to work, to be able to completely and wholly immerse himself in his work… to go on with his life and put the past behind him.

----------------------------

Elizabeth looked up as a gentle knocking on her doorframe grabbed her attention.

"Have a minute?" Kate Heightmeyer smiled.

Elizabeth returned the expression and waved Heightmeyer into her office. "Dr. Heightmeyer, yes. Come in. Have a seat." Elizabeth watched as Heightmeyer sat down on the opposite side of Elizabeth's desk. 

"I'd like to speak to you about Major Sheppard."

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair. "How is he?"

Heightmeyer sighed. "I'm not sure. He could be as he says he is, which is fine, or he could be denying that something is wrong. He even could be at a stage where he doesn't realize something isn't right, and believes he's fine. It's hard to tell."

Elizabeth drummed her fingers on the armrest of her chair for a moment, before abruptly standing. She walked to a nearby bookcase and fingered one of the delicate Athosian vases that sat there. Dr. Heightmeyer hadn't said what Elizabeth wanted to hear. Even if John wasn't okay, at least she'd know for sure. This state of limbo –being forced to make a judgment call without knowing what was going on – worried her. 

She turned and stared intently at Heightmeyer. "What about his torture?"

Heightmeyer pursed her lips. "He didn't mention it, nor did I push for him too. He'll talk about it, eventually, either to me or to someone else. I didn't think its wise to pursue it any further at this time. If his dealing with that becomes an issue, we can address it then."

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. "Carson tells me in another five days or so, he'll be physically able to return to active duty." Her gaze narrowed. "Should he?"

Now it was Heightmeyer's turn to stand. She crossed the room to where Elizabeth stood. "If you're looking for a definitive answer, I don't have one. If you're asking my opinion, I'd say yes, simply because I can't prove otherwise. For all intents and purposes, he is fine. But," Heightmeyer arched an eyebrow, "it might be prudent to keep him on Atlantis and not on any offworld missions for now, just until we know more."

Elizabeth nodded. Okay. Thank you." She turned, her eyes once more passing over her vase collection as her thoughts wandered. She weighed the pros and cons of the situation and decided that Heightmeyer's recommendation was a good one… and prayed they were both right.

--------------------------------

He woke. Cold sweat clung to him, his breath coming in gasps. Faint images of darkness… feelings of dread… lost their hold on him, fading fast from his memory. John stared at the ceiling, willing himself to relax and go back to sleep, but the dread clung to him. Persistent and demanding, it lingered. Faint images of Fred dashed through his memory, and dim shadows of pain fleeted over him as the nightmare continued to fade, leaving a cold chill in its wake, and a touch of relief that he couldn't remember the specifics of what had terrified him enough to wake him.

John looked around the infirmary, the night-time lights dim. He could just make out the silhouette of one of the night-shift nurses, filling out paperwork under a bright centered desk light. He closed his eyes, forcing his breathing to slow before his agitation alerted the nurse. John pulled in a deep breath, then another, as calmness returned to him. Determination took over. There was no way Carson was going to release him today if he showed even a hint that he wasn't himself. John's thoughts drifted to returning to duty… and the normalcy that would come with it. The dark, cold images of his ordeal faded in his memory as sleep returned to him.

---------------------------------

_You'd think I'd been gone for months…_

It was the first thought to spring to John's mind as he stopped at the top of the command center stairs and paused, his gaze traveling over the people assembled there. His hand unconsciously settled on his side arm. Five sets of eyes were fixed on him, and John arched his eyebrows, a self-conscious smile flashing across his face.

"Major, welcome back," Weir smiled and nodded slightly at him.

John scratched the back of his neck and crossed the command deck to Weir. "Thanks. It's good to be back." He glanced at the other four people looking at him, all of them smiling. Ford… Teyla… McKay… Beckett. He made brief eye contact with each one before looking back to Weir. "What's on the agenda?"

Weir's gaze lingered on him a moment longer before she glanced at McKay. "Rodney?"

McKay tapped a few keys on his laptop. "The North Pier. We were all set to do a first sweep when you were…" McKay's voice trailed off as he glanced up at John hesitantly.

"I was captured," John said quietly. He looked around at all of their concerned expressions. He sighed. "Look, I'm okay with it." His gaze lingered longest on Beckett. The doctor's expression was reserved, but he remained silent. "Really."

Beckett sighed. "If I didn't believe you, Major, I'd have never cleared you for duty."

John nodded once, curtly. He looked back at the laptop. "McKay?"

"Right." McKay returned his attention to his laptop. "There are still a few sections of the North Pier we haven't been to yet. We should probably at least make a first pass through them today."

"Sounds good." John looked expectantly at Weir who nodded.

"You have a go, Major," she smiled slightly.

John returned her nod. He looked at the other members of his team. "Ford, Teyla, McKay. Let's go." He headed for the back stairs, his hand coming up to grasp his P-90. The feel of the cold weapon in his hand sparked brief memories of gunfire, and Wraith stunner blasts, and his step faltered slightly as adrenaline surged through him. Puzzled, John caught himself and continued towards the stairs, pushing away the memories and focusing on the present.

----------------------------

Elizabeth watched John go. He'd been calm, composed and professional on the day they'd decided to do the debriefing of his capture. Deadpan, his face had held no hint of emotion, no spark of anger, no sign of remorse. Evenly, quietly, John had recounted the events of his capture, and of Cooper's death.

Elizabeth shook her head, her gaze still fixed on the Major's back. Even presented factually, she'd been shocked at what he and Cooper had been forced to endure. The fact that the Major could bounce back so fast and go on with his duties amazed her…

…And worried her. She dwelt on their conversation, just that morning.

"_Knock, knock."_

_Elizabeth smiled and looked up from her computer screen. "John, come in." She watched him cross her office, his stride easy and relaxed. _

_He settled into a chair and smiled at her. _

"_It's good to have you back on active duty, Major."_

John nodded. "It's good to be back." He took a deep breath. "So, Rodney tells me there are several planets to scout. Which one are we visiting today? Or do I get to choose?" he teased lightly.

_Elizabeth's smile faded. She looked away, all the while feeling John's penetrating gaze on her. "John…."_

"We're not going offworld? Why?" he interrupted her.

_Elizabeth let determination take over her expression. There was no sense in avoiding the confrontation. She met his gaze. "No. You're not going off world… at least not yet." She watched as his sober expression intensified._

"_Just me? Why?"_

_She sighed and stared down at her folded hands. "Dr. Heightmeyer thought…."_

"_I see."_

_His interruption was curt, and Elizabeth looked up, her brow furrowing. "No, John. I don't think you do."  
_

_He abruptly leaned forward in his chair. "Elizabeth, I'm fine. How many times do I have to say that before someone will believe me?"_

"_John," Elizabeth leaned forward and crossed her hands on her desk, "its not that we don't believe you…." She arched a brow as he once more interrupted her; a habit he fell into when he was upset._

"_If you believed me, we wouldn't be having this conversation!" He glared at her, tension lining his strong features._

_She looked away and pursed her lips in thought, before her eyes flashed back to him. "I appreciate how you feel. Just humor me, okay?" She arched an eyebrow and gave him a small smile. She had to fight to keep her smile subtle as he sighed in resignation and nodded._

"Okay. As long is this isn't too… long…." He cocked an all-too-familiar eyebrow at her and stood. 

_She watched him walk away, only for him to stop after a few steps and look back at her. _

"I'll be reviewing guard schedules if anyone wants to rescue me." His mock tone was martyred and his expression matched it.

_She smiled in return and gestured at the stack of reports on her desk. "You can help me with mine…."_

_John raised his hand and backed out of her office. "No thanks!"_

Elizabeth watched John disappear down the stairwell, as her flashback faded. She could still see the tension in his eyes, the reservation in his voice, and she wasn't sure if it was because he was cooped up on Atlantis….

.…Or if it was something else.

--------------------------

"This is it." Rodney paused as he stared at his LSD display. 

John stopped next to him. "What?" 

"Here!" Rodney pointed at the floor. "This is as far as we've gone. The rest is uncharted."

John lifted his gun and shone the light down the long corridor. "Okay, let's take this slowly. Keep your eyes peeled, everyone." They all started down the hallway.

"Eyes… peeled?" Teyla inquired as she looked around.

"It's an Earth expression," Ford responded. "It means keep your eyes open." 

"Right Ford," Rodney butted into the conversation. "Like that's going to mean anything more to her!"

"Why would I close them?" Teyla looked at Ford in confusion.

"If you can do better, McKay, why didn't you answer?" Ford retorted.

Rodney sighed. "Because, Ford, I have more important…"

"All right, that's enough!" John snapped as he whirled around and faced them. He instantly regretted his tone. He sighed. "Just… pay attention." He turned and once more headed down the hallway, all the while feeling his team's surprised stares on his back… and it matched his feelings. Irked at his own irrational response, he pushed it aside and forced himself to concentrate as the team silently proceeded down the dark hallway.

John rounded the corner and abruptly stopped, every pore in his body screaming a warning. His gun instantly came up as he searched for the danger that had his internal alarms going off. The corridor was dark, the only light coming from their flashlights. John looked around, the dread within him growing. Deep within him, his primal instincts screamed. Any moment he'd be attacked… captured… helpless… hurt….

"Major?"

John felt the light brush of Ford's shoulder as the Lieutenant stood close to him, his weapon ready. Once again, Ford's shoulder brushed against John and he had to fight not to flinch away.

"I'm not detecting anything. What is it, Major?" From behind, Rodney's voice was puzzled.

John swallowed hard, and fought to keep his breathing even. There was nothing wrong… nothing there, but something still gnawed at him… demanded to be heard… refused to go away.

"Sir?"

John forced himself to lower his weapon and looked at Ford. "Nothing. I thought there was something there."

Ford relaxed at the sight of John's lowered weapon. "Yes, sir."

Once again, John lifted his gun, this time in a relaxed pose, allowing the light to shine down the darkened corridor. He took a step forward, then another, all the while fighting through his instincts, and forcing control over his rushing emotions. It wasn't the first dark hallway on Atlantis he'd ever walked down, and it probably wouldn't be the last, but something about it, had sparked something deep inside John. Something base… primitive… but strong.

John looked around, his mind briefly wandering, puzzled by his reaction. The darkened hallways…the feelings of dread…they were all too familiar. He'd seen his two best friends blown up by an RPG, and had nightmares about it, off and on, for six months afterwards, but never anything like this. He had to admit that, as horrible as their deaths had been, they had been a cakewalk compared to his imprisonment on the Wraith ship. But he'd handled Mitch and Dex's deaths, and he'd handle this… it'd just take him more time. Confident in himself, John knew he could work it out… and, until then, he'd rely on a little latitude from the people around him… but he deserved it and, after all he'd gone through, John knew he'd get it.

Returning his attention to their surroundings, he paused as his light hit the end of the corridor. "End of the line."

Rodney sighed loudly. "There's nothing here. Let's go back. There're six more corridors we need to cover." Rodney turned and headed back down the hallway, Ford and Teyla right behind him.

John looked around once more, his light bouncing off the high ceiling, before he walked off and joined his team.

Three hours later, John led them back into the control room. Looking up from one of the Ancient consoles, Weir's gaze held an unasked question, to which John shook his head. "A whole lot of nothing."

"I can't believe I missed lunch for that," Rodney groused. "I'm starving!"

John rolled his eyes at Rodney before returning his attention to Weir. "Some living quarters, a couple of large, empty rooms, but nothing to report really. We should have some survey teams check more thoroughly."

"I doubt they'll find anything useful," Rodney muttered.

Weir nodded at the Major. "Sounds good."

"Great, wonderful, fantastic!" Rodney stepped around Weir and headed for the back stairs. "Now, I'm getting something to eat, before I collapse from hypoglycemic shock."

Amused, John shook his head and made eye contact with Weir before she looked over her shoulder at Rodney. "Senior staff meeting in an hour, Rodney."

"I know!" Rodney's annoyed reply echoed up from the stairwell.

John glanced at Teyla's questioning look. "He's always that way when he's hungry."

Teyla arched her brows and nodded. "Ah. He must be hungry a lot then." 

-----------------------------------

Almost an hour later, Teyla walked into the conference room. She looked around at the empty room and smiled slightly. As was her normal habit, she was first to arrive. Pulling out a chair, she settled into it and folded her hands on the table, before acknowledging Dr. Weir who arrived a moment later. More movement in the doorway caught her attention, as Major Sheppard joined them. She watched him walk into the conference room. His pace was even, his steps sure. To all outward appearances, he seemed normal but, to her, there was a tension lingering just under the surface. Subtle though it was, she could still see it in his posture and around his eyes, and sense it in his bearing. Teyla nodded in recognition as he made eye contact with her and smiled slightly. She glanced at Dr. Weir, who looked at the Major for a long moment, before once more staring down at her data pad. In that brief flash, Teyla had seen the same recognition in Weir's expression.

Once again, Teyla's gaze returned to the doorway as McKay and Ford both entered and took their seats.

Weir nodded at each of them. "Dr. Clarkston has been notified that the North Pier needs to be scheduled for surveying. He thinks his teams can get to it early next week." She scanned her data pad. "The only other thing I have is the trade agreements."

"Woefully inadequate to say the least!" McKay interrupted. "We're no longer on the verge of rationing, we **are** rationing!"

Teyla sighed. "Many are finding themselves in lean times, Dr. McKay. With the Wraith awakening everywhere, many trading partners have been heavily culled."

"Yes, yes, that's horrible," McKay snapped, "but what are **we** going to do?"

"Cut out of the chow line today?" Sheppard interjected quietly with an amused smile.

McKay glared at him. "Let's just say the portions were less than I'm used to!"

"Tighten your belt, Rodney, you'll be fine," the Major answered.

Teyla watched the verbal sparring. As many times as she'd seen it, she never understood how two grown men, both experts in their professions, could act so juvenile.

"Ever see what inadequate blood sugar does to higher brain function? It's not pretty!" McKay snapped.

"Gentlemen," Weir cut in, beating Sheppard to a reply. "Can we stay focused please?"

Teyla pulled on much of her training to keep from smiling at both men's expressions. She was reminded of the adolescent boys of her people when one of the elders reprimanded them.

"We knew this would happen when we broke ties with the Manarians," Weir added.

"They betrayed us to the Genii. I don't see where we had a choice," Sheppard insisted.

"The Major is right, ma'am."

Teyla heard Ford's agreeing words, but her gaze was fixed on Sheppard's hard expression. 

"I know that, Lieutenant, and it was the right thing to do."

Teyla continued to watch Sheppard as his expression softened at Weir's agreement. "So," he asked her, "what do we do now?"

Teyla switched her gaze to Weir as the doctor turned to face her. 

"Teyla, do you know anyone else we could trade with?"

Teyla sighed and sat back in her chair. Her mind searched through all the peoples she knew… everyone she and her father before her had traded with. They had visited some of the worlds already, and found the Wraith had arrived first. Then there were the Genii….

Teyla's thoughts lingered on their newest enemies. She'd been so sure they could be of help to the expedition team. But what they'd found had nearly destroyed them all. She carried some lingering guilt over introducing Sheppard and his team to them, and over the deaths that had resulted. It planted a whisper of doubt in her otherwise confident mind. But she denied its effects. "There is one other world which may be able to trade with us… if the Wraith have not already destroyed them."

"Good," Weir smiled. "Who are they?"

"The world is called Palla. My father traded with them when I was very young, but I remember them. The Pallans are a very simple, agrarian people. They are farmers and herders. My father enjoyed trading with them, and always found them to be fair partners."

"Anyone else sense the déjà vu here?" McKay broke in. "Didn't you say the same thing about the Genii?"

Teyla felt the whisper of guilt within her but kept her face neutral as she looked at the doctor. "No one regrets that more than I, Dr. McKay, but as you said, we need supplies."

"There's no way you could've known, Teyla." Sheppard smiled at her before turning a somber face to McKay. "Right, Rodney?"

McKay fidgeted slightly, but said nothing.

Weir nodded and pushed back from the table. "I'll talk to Carson and see what we can spare for trade. That's all."

Teyla stood and started towards the door.

"Teyla?"

Weir's voice stopped her. She watched as the others left the conference room before she turned and nodded at Weir.

"Major Sheppard is right. There was no way you could've known about the Genii. I hope you don't blame yourself for anything that happened."

Teyla inhaled deeply and smiled slightly. "It is all right, Dr. Weir. I realize that I could not have known." She started to turn away, but paused. She looked Weir in the eye and smiled. "Thank you."

Weir nodded and smiled back.

---------------------  
Typing quickly on her data pad, Elizabeth exited the infirmary and started down the long hallway back to the control tower. She sighed and scanned the list of items Carson had given her. They'd already traded much of their medical supplies in previous agreements, and there wasn't a lot to spare. Combine that with what the Genii stole, and their stores were getting lean. She shook her head. The day was quickly coming that they'd have to find something else to trade with. She pursed her lips and kept walking. _One catastrophe at a time…_

"Elizabeth!"

She paused and looked behind her, watching as John trotted down the hallway to catch up with her. He smiled and fell in step as she once more walked down the corridor.

"Did Beckett give you a list of stuff we can trade with the Pallans?" John arched a brow and peeked at her data pad.

She glanced up at the hallway before looking back at her pad. "Hmm… yes. We can't keep trading medical supplies for much longer."

"Well, I've been thinking about that," John ventured. His right hand casually settled on his sidearm as he easily kept pace with her.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at his smug expression. "Oh? This doesn't involve nuclear bombs and C4, does it?"

His expression turned slightly sheepish. "No."

She smiled and tapped another button on her pad, pulling up her day's calendar. "Okay, I'm listening."

"Well, we have a lot of smart scientists around here. We could trade knowledge."

"Major, they're scientists, not farmers." Elizabeth glanced at him in amusement.

"Yeah," John smiled, "but we have a couple botanists who know a thing or two about plants, and I'll bet the engineers could build a pretty mean irrigation system if they put their minds to it."

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks, as John's words sank in. She looked at him as he stepped around to face her. "That's not a bad idea, Major." His coy smile brought a grin to her face.

"I've been known to have good ideas every once in a while."

She continued walking. "I don't know how receptive some of the scientists will be, though."

John shrugged. "Yeah, well, when they get hungry, they may change their minds."

Elizabeth arched her brows. "Hmm… good point." She stared at her day's schedule as she walked down the hallway, but something nagged at her. She looked up, realizing that John had fallen silent. She glanced at his pensive expression.

"What is it, Major?" She slowed her pace to match his hesitation, eventually stopping and facing him in the hallway.

John fidgeted slightly. "I think that I…." His voice trailed off. He sighed in resignation. "I want to go on this mission," he finally blurted.

Elizabeth inhaled slowly. "John…."

"Come on, Elizabeth. I'm going stir crazy. I need to get off world."

She met his pleading gaze with a neutral one, as she considered his words… and Heightmeyer's recommendation. John stepped closer to her, his imploring expression intensifying.

"There's nothing wrong with me. Besides, this is about as safe an off world mission as we could have, if that makes you feel any better." John's raised hands animated his words. "I've been back on light duty for four days… back on Atlantis for almost two weeks. I'm on active duty as of today. Besides, wouldn't you know by now if something was wrong?"

Elizabeth pursed her lips and squinted slightly at him. "Not necessarily." She watched John run a hand through his hair, his loud sigh and tense face betraying his level of frustration an instant before he turned away.

He walked a few steps and turned back to face her. "How will you ever know everything is okay, until you let me lead my team again?"

Elizabeth blinked hard and looked away. She shook her head at her conflicting feelings. Part of her listened to John, wanted to believe him… trusted him. But the other part heard Heightmeyer's words; remembered John's nightmare; dwelt on his ordeal; and felt hesitation over every one of those reasons.

"Elizabeth, please."

She returned her gaze to him. His expression was as beseeching as his words, and Elizabeth found herself unable to say no. They'd already been through so much, that she had learned early on that she had to trust him. This was no different. "Okay. You can go. Your team leaves at 0800 tomorrow morning."

John smiled broadly for a moment, before gratitude replaced his jovial expression. "Thanks." He nodded once at her before setting off down the hallway at a brisk walk.

Elizabeth watched him go, reservation once more whispering to her. "You're welcome," she muttered, "I think."

-------------------------------

The scene that met John Sheppard's eyes as he emerged from the Stargate instantly brought a smile to his face. Perched strategically on the top of a steep, grassy hill, the gate overlooked a vast valley that nestled against rolling foothills and sweeping jagged peaks stretching into the horizon. John found himself rooted in place as he took in the majesty of the snow-capped mountains, and the quaint homeliness of the village that thrived in their shadow.

Still smiling, John glanced at Teyla, who stopped next to him, her expression mirroring his. He looked back out across the valley. "Oh, I could get used to this place."

Teyla nodded. "Yes, Major. The Pallans are a simple farming and herding people, but there is warmth in their hearts. Of all the peoples I have ever met, they are the most generous and open." She looked John in the eyes and smiled. "They will trade fairly with us."

Still gazing at the scenery, John nodded. "Sounds good." 

John backed up a step and glanced down at Rodney's LSD. "Reading anything unusual?"

Rodney grunted and shook his head. "Not from here."

Sheppard nodded. "Okay. Teyla? You know these people. Lead the way." He looked back at Ford. "Lieutenant, bring up the rear."

Teyla nodded and started down a steep path away from the gate.

John inhaled a deep breath of the fresh air and followed along behind her. The warm sun on his back, and the serenity of the view that surrounded him, slowly pushed the tension from his body. After being cooped up on Atlantis for two weeks, getting off world was exactly what he needed.

Before long, the trail flattened out as the team started across the valley towards the village. The path widened, and showed signs of increased wear, and in the distance John heard voices. The grasslands around them gave way to cultivated fields, with people scattered through them, tending the crops.

Teyla halted abruptly and John almost ran into her as a half dozen animals, strongly resembling Earth sheep, trotted across the path in front of them. A few had large horns twisting in a circle around the sides of their heads, and their coats were brown, but beyond that, John could've sworn they were sheep.

Hot on the trail of the "sheep" a small boy ran behind them, wielding a long stick. He staggered to a stop in front of the team, his eyes widening in surprise.

John glanced at Teyla, who met his eyes briefly before smiling down at the boy. "It is all right. We are friends. I am Teyla Emmagan, I have come to visit Malfan. Do you know where he is?"

The boy relaxed slightly at the mention of the village elder. "He's tending fields. I can take you to him."

"Uhh…what about these?"

Rodney's irritated voice grabbed John's attention. He turned and stifled a laugh as one of the "sheep" brazenly walked up to Rodney and sniffed his knee. John smiled. "What about them?"

"You must smell good, McKay," Ford chuckled, his grin widening as the doctor fixed him with an annoyed stare.

"Oh yeah, this is very amusing." Rodney's voice took on a decided note of irritation as the animal not-so-gently butted his knee. "Did I mention that I hate livestock?"

"They seem to like you, Rodney," John commented, his hands resting casually on his P-90.

"The feeling is NOT mutual – Hey!" Rodney jumped and pushed emphatically on the head of the animal as it grabbed a chunk of his pants in its mouth. "Knock it off!" He swatted the animal's head.

The boy rushed to Rodney's aid. He pushed hard on the "sheep", forcing the animal away from the doctor.

"About time!" Rodney backed away, brushing at his knees. He glared at John and Ford, who were both still smiling. "Thanks for the help." He pulled his LSD from his vest and scanned the area, pointedly ignoring the rest of the team.

Using his stick, the boy quickly herded the errant animal back together with the rest of his flock and shooed them down the path. He looked back at the team. "Follow me. I will take you to Malfan."

John walked along next to the boy, glanced down at him and smiled. "I'm John. What's your name?"

The boy's innocent and toothy grin lit up his face. He gently poked one of the animals with his stick, and moved it along. "Pertus."

"Nice to meet you, Pertus." John nodded. He reached out, lightly smacking the rear end of one of the animals, encouraging it to keep up with the rest of the flock. He looked up and over the top of the short boy's head at Teyla. "How well do you know this Malfan?"

Teyla smiled fondly. "Very. My father traded with him. I have known him since I was very young. There was a time, when I was a child, when we visited the Pallans every season, but it has been many years since I have been here."

Before long, they came to the edge of the village. People bustled around them, but instead of regarding him and his team suspiciously, John was amazed at the open and friendly smiles that greeted him.

Pertus stopped, allowing his animals to mill around them. "Malfan is over there." He pointed to his right, across a wide field, at a figure in the distance. "I can't leave my flock to take you to him."

John squinted and stared across the vast field, and nodded. "Thanks, Pertus." He looked down at the boy and winked.

Pertus grinned back before once more herding his flock down the path through the village.

"Finally," Rodney muttered as he watched the boy and his flock move away.

"Relax, Rodney, they're only sheep… or something like sheep… they were just curious, that's all." John shrugged as he started across the tilled field.

"How very James Herriot of you," Rodney snapped.

John ignored Rodney as he made his way though the rich dirt towards a small group of people in the distance. As they got closer to the natives, John looked back at his Athosian team member. "Teyla? Malfan knows you. Take lead." He stopped, letting her pass him, before falling in behind her. As they approached the group of Pallans, the natives stopped their work and stared at them intently.

John hung back as Teyla walked confidently up to a gray-haired, older man and smiled warmly at him. "Malfan. It has been many days."

The man stared intently at her for a moment, before his eyes widened in recognition. "Teyla Emmagan!" He grinned as they touched foreheads in greeting. He pushed her back to arm's length and smiled warmly. "I told Tagon you would grow to be a beautiful woman. It warms my heart to see I was right."

"Malfan," Teyla smiled, "the years have been kind to you also." She turned slightly and gestured at John and the others. "These are my friends. They have come to trade. This is Major Sheppard, Doctor McKay and Lieutenant Ford."

Malfan stepped past Teyla and stopped in front of John. He smiled warmly and placed a trusting hand on John's shoulder. "Major."

John glanced at Teyla, who nodded encouragingly. Taking the cue, John nodded back and placed his right hand on Malfan's shoulder. "Call me John."

Malfan's smile widened and he nodded. "John."

Malfan repeated the process with Rodney and Ford before starting back across the field, gesturing at them to follow. "Come, its near midday. We can discuss our trade while we eat."

John fell in next to Malfan as the rest of the team followed along behind. John smiled as the older man looked over at him.

"What is it you wish to trade for, John?" Malfan asked.

"Food mostly." John shrugged. "Teyla's people are growing crops, but they aren't ready to harvest yet."

Malfan's expression turned curious. "You live on Athos with Teyla's people?"

John looked away, his smile fading. "No. The Wraith destroyed Athos. Teyla and her people live with us."

"That news saddens me, for the Athosians were good and honorable trading partners." He glanced at John. "Where do you live, John?"

John met Malfan's gaze with a friendly but guarded expression. "On a different planet."

Malfan nodded thoughtfully before he gave John a knowing look. "You do not completely trust me."

John's gaze narrowed as he regarded the Pallan elder. The man seemed honest and forthright, and John's gut told him to be the same. "I don't know you well enough to know whether I trust you or not, Malfan." He arched an eyebrow and smiled.

Malfan grinned and chuckled. "Well said, John. You are a cautious man." His smile faded. "With the Wraith waking, and once more bringing death to many worlds, you are wise to be cautious."

"Have the Wraith been here recently, Malfan?" Teyla interjected, her expression worried.

Malfan sighed. "No, but we hear word of severe cullings on many worlds from our trading partners." He reached out, squeezing Teyla's arm in reassurance. "They will eventually come. Until then, we will continue to live our lives as best we can."

"Malfan, we may be able to help you against the Wraith, in exchange for a share of your crops," John ventured quietly. The serenity he'd felt since arriving on this quaint world had rapidly given way to tense apprehension at the mention of the Wraith.

Soberly, Malfan looked at John. "That would be worth discussing." Silence descended on the group as they continued across the field.

As they exited the field, Malfan led them down a path to a small cottage set back from the rest. As he walked through the front door, John smiled and inhaled deeply. Simple but functional, the cottage held the warmth of a small fire crackling in the fireplace, and he instantly felt comfortable.

Malfan directed them to a sturdy table surrounded by two long and two short benches. "Please, my friends, be seated." 

John unclipped his P-90 and sat directly to the left of Malfan, who sat at the head of the table. Rodney sat next to John, while Teyla sat opposite him, with Ford next to her.

John looked up, his eyes widening as a woman entered the room. She was tall and her features strong but proportionate. A few wisps of brunette hair had escaped the simple thong that held back the rest, and twisted in loose waves around her face. There was an air of strength about her that part of John found instantly attractive but, at the moment, he couldn't tear his eyes from her very pronounced belly. She appeared to be in the late stages of pregnancy, although her condition didn't seem to slow her down one bit.

Annoyance flickered in her green eyes as she scanned John's team before glaring at Malfan. "Father! You brought guests into this house without so much as a warning to me?"

Malfan winced before gesturing briefly. "My daughter, Brianor. Brianor, love, do you not recognize Teyla Emmagan?"

John smiled as all annoyance melted from Brianor's face and it lit up with a delighted smile. "Teyla!"

Teyla stood quickly and crossed the room to embrace the Pallan woman. She stepped back and looked down at Brianor's stomach. "You are with child. Congratulations." Teyla gestured at the table. "These are my companions."

John, Rodney and Ford all stood as Teyla led Brianor to the table and introduced them.

John gave Brianor a friendly smile as she paused in front of him.

"Major." She smiled sweetly.

"Call me John," he replied. "I'm sorry if we made any trouble for you."

Her smiled deepened. "It is alright, John." She flashed a mock serious look at Malfan. "As long as Father does not make a habit of it." She softened her words with a smile.

Malfan looked at John. "Brianor and Teyla played together as children, when Tagon came to trade." He looked affectionately at the two women. "They got into plenty of trouble too."

"Trouble?" Ford grinned openly.

John looked at Teyla. He tried to picture the disciplined Teyla Emmagan getting into childhood mischief, but just couldn't. "What sort of trouble?" His curiosity deepened at Teyla's uncomfortable expression.

"The sort I would undoubtedly get in trouble for telling you about," Malfan responded. "Perhaps that is best left to Teyla."

"Father, Teyla's first visit in so long, and you are making her uncomfortable in this house." Brianor lightly chastised Malfan before turning back towards the doorway. "Since you did not warn me of guests for our meal, I had best see what else I have to serve." 

"Let me help you." Teyla hurried behind Brianor.

As the two women disappeared through the doorway, Malfan sighed and settled back into his seat. "She has spirit, that one." His expression turned reflective, a wistful smile gracing his face. "Much like her mother." Malfan glanced up at the obvious question in John's eyes. "My wife was taken by the Wraith when Brianor was very young. For one so young, my daughter bore it well. And her husband was killed in a fall in the mountains only a few months ago. Her strength in the face of such tragedies amazes me."

John sighed and nodded slightly. "I'm sorry."

"It is part of life." Malfan waved absently. "Many of our children grow up without one or both of their parents…. and many parents see their children taken, all because of the Wraith. It is difficult, but we learn to live with it."

John nodded silently, the low boiling anger within him, once again making its presence known. He'd spent most of his adult life fighting for what was right, and defending the innocent and helpless. To once again meet a race of people who had been forced to live with the horror of Wraith cullings angered him in a way he'd never experienced before arriving in Pegasus. He looked up, and into Malfan's thoughtful gaze. He drew in a deep breath and managed a small smile for the Pallan elder.

Malfan nodded back. "But come. Let us speak of trading."

-----------------------------------

An hour later, John and his team stood at the doorway of Malfan's home, the Pallan elder and his daughter standing with them.

"The first of the crops will be harvested in a few weeks, John. Several of the crops we discussed will be harvested in the weeks following. You and your people will need to return every few weeks for your share of the different harvests."

John smiled. "We'll bring the medicines we agreed to then." He nodded as Malfan placed his hand on John's shoulder.

"Agreed, my friend." Malfan smiled.

"Be well," Brianor added. She turned and embraced Teyla. "Do not stay away so long again, Teyla."

Teyla returned Brianor's embrace before stepping back and rejoining her team. "I will not. I will return when the harvests are ready. I expect your home will soon have a new addition." She glanced pointedly at Brianor's belly and smiled.

Brianor's hand came up to rest on her stomach and she grinned. "Yes, it is likely."

"Malfan, Brianor," John nodded, "take care. We'll be back in a few weeks." He turned away and started down the path back towards the gate, the rest of his team following behind.

-----------------------------

"You know? I was here two weeks ago, and there was nothing worth my attention then," Rodney groused as he followed John, and Teyla down the narrow path away from the Stargate. Exactly why do I have to come back here again?"

"What's the matter, McKay? Don't you like the fresh air?"

Rodney turned and fixed Ford with an irritated look. "Oh yes, delightful." He sniffed dramatically. "Nothing like the smell of sheep sh…"

"They're not really sheep, Rodney," John deftly interrupted him.

The doctor grimaced. "Whatever! Look, as much as I'm sure you enjoy my company, there are more important things on Atlantis I could be doing right now."

"Oh yeah, that's right, you're indispensable," Ford quipped. His smile broadened at Rodney's icy stare.

"Sure, fine. You joke about it only because it's true," Rodney shot back. "Manual labor really isn't my thing."

"What labor?" Ford countered. "The Pallans do most of the work. They take the crops to the Gate. We dial Atlantis. When our people come through with our half of the trade, the Pallans take it back. What are you complaining about?"

"Gee, could it be the waste of my time?" Rodney snapped. His attention returned forward as John stopped abruptly and walked back to him. He stared at the Major's serious expression. "What?"

"You're a member of my team, McKay. That means when we go off world, you go too." John's gaze narrowed. "You don't get to pick and choose your missions, got it?"

Rodney fidgeted slightly and looked away for a moment before he nodded, biting back any cynicism. "Got it."

John glared at him for another moment, before turning away and once more heading down the hill towards the Pallan village.

Rodney took a moment to glance at Teyla, whose concerned expression mirrored what he was feeling. "What the hell was that?"

Teyla quirked an eyebrow and shrugged at him before starting after the Major.

"Don't know," Ford replied quietly, "but you might want to ease up, McKay."

Rodney's irritation swiftly returned. "Oh, thank you, Dr. Freud."

------------------------------

John looked up, the tension draining from his body and a small smile forming on his mouth as he took in the trees around him. The path to the Pallan village was rapidly becoming familiar to him, and it was a familiarity he embraced. The dirt trail beneath his feet gradually leveled and widened as the trees overhead thickened and cast a shadowy but comforting dimness over the path. John looked around, his smile lingering. This was his favorite part of the trek from the gate to the village. He had no clue how old the trees around him were, but they towered above him, their branches crossing overhead creating almost a tunnel over the path. Narrow streams of sunlight worked their way through the branches, sporadically creating delicate slices of light on the ground around him. It was still early in the Pallan morning, and John could smell a fresh mist in the air.

He pulled in a deep breath through his nose. Something about this place… these people, agreed with him. They had a simple and caring but strong way about them that cut through the complexities that seemed to muddy his life lately. In the Pallans, John saw what was important, and every trip here grounded him… reminded him of that.

Gradually, the trees gave way to the open, cultivated fields surrounding the Pallan village. John nodded, waving occasionally at villagers working in the fields as they acknowledged him. From the beginning, the Pallans had been nothing but open and warm with him and his team. They were a trusting society, and part of him envied that immediate and open trust.

"Major Sheppard!" 

John turned, a wide grin splitting his face as a young boy ran his direction. "Pertus!" He smiled down at the youth and tousled his hair. The boy had met up with them on every visit. John's smile widened, as he glanced around at his companions' fond looks. Pertus had endeared himself to everyone on the team, including McKay, although the doctor would never admit it.

"You have come to see Malfan?" Pertus asked.

John nodded. "Yes, do you know where he is?"

"I saw him on the path to his cottage not long ago, maybe he's there?" Pertus shrugged. "I have to find my flock in the hills, or I'd help you." He frowned in disappointment.

"That's okay," John reassured the boy. "We'll find him. We'll be here for a while yet, don't worry. Go on."

Pertus' mouth split into a wide, toothy grin. "I'll find you when I'm done!" He turned and ran a few steps before stopping and looking back. "I won't be long!"

John's amused grin followed the boy as he dashed down the wide road towards the distant foothills.

"I don't think I ever had that much energy. " Rodney smiled as he also watched the retreating youth.

John quirked an eyebrow at the doctor. "I don't think so either."

Annoyed, Rodney slumped his shoulders and shot John an irritated look, to which John only smiled back.

Without a word, John started down the road again. Before long, he turned off the wide, main thoroughfare and walked down the narrow path to Malfan's cottage. He paused at the door and looked back at Teyla. "Should I knock?"

Teyla smiled patiently. "Major, that Earth custom is not practiced here."

John signed. "I know that, Teyla, but I can't just…" he waved his hands emphatically, "barge in."

Teyla's smile broadened. "Malfan?" she called. "It is Teyla Emmagan. I am here with Major Sheppard, Lieutenant Ford and Dr. McKay."

John cocked his head and glanced at the door before looking back at Teyla. He could hear sounds within the cottage, but the door remained closed. "Malfan? It's John Sheppard." His attention returned to the door as it abruptly opened. John instantly sensed the haggard and tense air that surrounded Malfan. He took a step forward, his hand slightly outstretched. "Malfan? Is everything okay?"

A small smile of relief crossed Malfan's face. "My friends. Yes, it is all right… now. I am sorry, I am very tired."

John nodded slightly. "That's okay." His gaze narrowed. "What happened?"

Malfan sighed. "It is Brianor…."

"Is she all right?" Teyla interrupted, her voice tense.

"Yes," Malfan nodded. "Now. She was in labor for two days, only to give birth last night. It was not yet her time, but I fear my daughter over-extended herself and brought her labor on prematurely. It was a breech birth. Korban, our healer, nearly lost the child."

"But, they're okay now," John asked quietly, searching for reassurance.

"Yes." Malfan stepped aside. "Please, come in."

John hesitated. "Malfan, if it's okay with you, I could ask our doctor to come and examine them. Just to be sure."

Malfan's gaze was uncertain as he quickly looked from John to Teyla to McKay then back to John. "I do not see why. Korban is here…." 

"Malfan," Teyla's voice was quiet and reassuring. "The Major's people have much knowledge about these things, more than you or I, or even Korban. They wish to help. Let them."

Malfan stared a long moment at Teyla before nodding slightly. "Your share of the recent harvest is ready for you in the village square also, John."

John nodded. "That's great." He turned and looked at Ford. "Lieutenant, take the Pallans and our current trade and head back to the gate. Contact Atlantis, let Weir know what's going on, and see if Beckett's up to a house call." John smiled slightly.

"Yes, sir," Ford nodded once, curtly, and walked briskly back down the path.

John led his team into the cottage. He looked across the room, and flashed a small smile at a Pallan man who walked up to him.

"Korban," Malfan stepped around John. "This is Major Sheppard, Teyla Emmagan and Dr. McKay." Malfan smiled slightly at John. "Korban is our healer."

John nodded once at the healer before glancing at Malfan.

"She is awake, if you wish to visit her," Malfan suggested as he smiled at Teyla. He looked up at John. "All of you."

John nodded slightly. "Lead the way." As he followed along behind Malfan to the back of the cottage, his thoughts turned reflective. Brianor could have died, and with her the child. John shook his head slightly, the fragility of life once again assaulting him. They could've helped. Beckett had the skills, Atlantis had the resources… if they'd only known. Frustration welled in him. If only the Pallans had a way to contact Atlantis, to ask for help… to get help….

John's thoughts were derailed as Malfan slowly opened the back door and led them into a small room. He stepped around Malfan and got his first look at Brianor.

Propped up against a stack of pillows, Brianor was pale. Her face was lined with exhaustion, and weakness surrounded her. John saw the shadowed memories of pain in her expression, and felt all the more frustrated for it. So much of her pain could've been avoided, lessened… stopped. If he and his team… if Atlantis, had only known. Carefully, they had sown a budding friendship with Malfan and his people, yet when Malfan needed help, John hadn't been there… he hadn't been able to help someone he'd called his friend.

John pushed away his dark emotions and smiled slightly at Brianor, as Teyla immediately approached the bed.

"Brianor," Teyla took Brianor's hand and squeezed it gently. "I am relieved to see that you are well. Your father told us what happened."

"I'm sorry we weren't here to help," John muttered. He felt his dark expression lighten as Brianor smiled warmly at him.

"How could you have known, John?" Brianor smiled at him for another minute before turning her warm expression on Teyla. "It was difficult, but I am fine." She turned and gestured to a solid crib that sat next to her bed. "As is my son."

For the first time, John's attention was drawn from the Pallan woman to the small crib. He felt a grip on his arm and glanced at Malfan, who walked towards the crib, towing John along.

Brianor's expression turned slightly admonishing. "He is sleeping, father. Do not wake him."

Malfan smiled tolerantly at his daughter. "Of course not." He stopped next to the crib and beamed proudly. "My grandson."

John looked down into the crib and smiled widely despite his dark mood. He couldn't believe how small the sleeping infant was, and the child's peaceful expression warmed John's heart. He felt a presence near him and looked over his shoulder as Rodney walked up next to him.

"Huh," Rodney's unimpressed grunt was quiet. "He's all… wrinkly."

John blinked hard and glanced sideways. "He's a newborn." John stared incredulously at Rodney. "And keep your voice down."

"Fine," Rodney snapped quietly. His expression softened. "He is kind of cute."

John rolled his eyes and shook his head. He stepped around Malfan and stood next to Brianor's bed. His smile was small. "How are you feeling?"

Brianor sighed. "Tired." She returned his smile. "But, I will be fine, John."

John nodded, his smile lingering, its effects warming the chilled anger that seemed to follow him everywhere these days. He turned away from the cold. "Our doctor is coming from Atlantis to take a look at you and your child, Brianor, if that's alright. Just to make sure you're both okay."

Brianor's expression turned slightly hesitant. She glanced at Korban, who looked questioningly at Malfan.

Malfan smiled slightly. "Their knowledge is much greater than ours," he said quietly.

Reassured, Korban nodded silently as Brianor once again smiled at John. "Thank you."

John looked down as Brianor took his hand and squeezed firmly. He returned the gesture, and brought his other hand up, covering hers. "You're welcome." A quiet fussing coming from the crib distracted his attention. He looked over his shoulder towards the crib before glancing back at Brianor, who sighed quietly.

"He is hungry again." She smiled. "Will you hand him to me, John?"

John's eyes widened in mild panic. "Me?" He looked imploringly towards Teyla who just shrugged in mild amusement. 

"Spoken like a true bachelor," Rodney quipped.

John looked over his shoulder and glared briefly at Rodney. "Maybe you'd like to do it?"

Rodney's expression turned slightly panicked. "Uh… no." He backed away from the crib.

The baby's fussing grew louder and Teyla sighed loudly in response as she started to stand.

John raised his hand. "No, that's okay, I got it…." He looked down in the crib. "I think…." He swallowed hard and slid his hands under the small infant. He pursed his lips nervously and straightened. One hand behind the infant's neck and supporting the tiny body, John carefully wrapped the blanket around the crying child and shifted the newborn into the crook of his elbow. He looked down, smiling as the infant quieted.

Malfan looked over John's shoulder. "You are a natural to this, John."

John grinned. "Thanks," he whispered. He stared down at the infant as a rush of emotion flowed over him. He could feel the warmth of the child, his little squirms… his life, and it filled him with wonder. The infant was so tiny, so helpless… but so amazing. The child wasn't his, yet John felt a strong sense of protection within him. He reached up with his free hand and gently traced a finger over the baby's warm cheek. In his arms was life. Small and helpless, but it was life, and he wanted nothing more than to protect it. Reflection settled over him. He'd seen so much death since arriving in Pegasus… so many people had died, so much life had been extinguished, that to see life created… to see it begin right before his eyes, brought balance to John… and cleansed his spirit more completely than he thought possible. He felt unfamiliar emotions within him as he wondered, for the first time in his life, what it was like to be a father.

John leaned over and carefully handed the child to Brianor. Part of him regretted letting go, and it sent a wave of amusement through him. He grinned as his thoughts were interrupted by a crackle in his radio.

"Major Sheppard this is Dr. Beckett, do ye read me?"

John reached up and tapped his radio. "This is Sheppard, go ahead, Doc." 

"Lieutenant Ford and I have just come through the gate and are on our way to ye. How are our patients?"

John smiled down at Brianor. "They seem fine, Doc, but I'll let you be the judge of that."

"Aye." Beckett responded. "We'll be there in a few minutes. Beckett out."

"Copy that, Sheppard out." John looked up as Malfan headed for the door. He reached behind and tugged lightly on Rodney's vest. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Rodney's tone was slightly annoyed.

John stared a moment at Rodney. "It's lunchtime for this little guy," he gestured down at the bed. "Don't you think they need a little privacy?"

Realization dawned on Rodney and his eyes widened in response. "Oh! Right." He quickly walked around the end of the bed and followed Malfan from the room.

John chuckled. He looked down at Teyla then to Brianor. "We'll be outside."

John didn't have to stand long in the cottage before a quiet knock on the door caught his attention. He smiled at Malfan's confused expression. "That's probably our people."

Malfan opened the door, admitting Ford and Beckett.

John nodded at Beckett as the doctor crossed the room. "Doc." He led them across the cottage and stopped just outside the door to Brianor's room. "Teyla?" He called through the door. "Beckett's here."

"Come in, Major," Teyla answered.

John opened the door and stepped through, then out of the way of Beckett who sighed and looked at the entourage standing just outside the door expectantly.

"Bloody convention," Beckett muttered. He looked at John. "Major, can I have some privacy with the lass and her wee one?"

"Of course," Malfan interrupted as he smiled at Beckett. The elder headed back across the cottage, motioning at Rodney and Ford to follow him.

"Please, I would like to stay and learn from you?" Korban's gaze was slightly imploring.

"Korban's a healer," John quickly supplied.

"Ah," Beckett nodded. "Lovely. You can stay. Teyla too. But that's it." He turned away and shrugged out of his backpack.

John smiled and shook his head at the doctor. Nodding once at Teyla, he exited the room.

-----------------------------

Immersed in discussions over the Atlantis and Pallan trade agreement, at first John didn't notice the back door even open. Movement caught his eye as Beckett, Teyla and Korban walked across the room. John felt relief wash through him at Beckett's easy and relaxed expression. "They're fine?"

Beckett nodded at John before smiling at Malfan. "Aye, they're both just fine. I'd like to see Brianor take it easy for at least a few days, maybe a week, but they're both healthy."

"Thank you, Doctor." Malfan smiled warmly at Beckett.

"Doctor," Korban smiled at Beckett. "You have much knowledge that I do not. Thank you for the chance to learn some of it."

Beckett smiled back. "I'm glad I could help." He glanced for a moment at John, before looking back to Korban. "We may be able to arrange for some medical training, Korban, if you are interested."

Korban stared back for a moment, before nodding slightly. "Yes, I would like that very much, thank you." The healer's gaze jumped from one person to another before settling on Malfan. "I must take my leave now." He turned and left the cottage.

John glanced at the doctor and chuckled. He shook his head dismissively at Beckett's questioning expression. "Traveling through a wormhole to make house calls. Not exactly what you signed up for, is it, Doc?"

Beckett's chuckle joined John's. "Aye, I suspect we're all doing things we didn't expect."

Abruptly, John's smile disappeared, and with it all the ease and happiness he felt. Unbidden… unwelcome, memories flashed through his mind.

_Over the top of his raised gun, John arched a humorless brow at the male Wraith, a menacing smile forming on his mouth as he pushed down his emotions, smothering them with iron cold control. "I don't think so." The Wraith's expression turned to one of shock in the instant before John opened fire. _

"Major?"

_Two Wraith approached John and waved silently for him to stand. _

_Drawing a deep breath, he slowly pulled his legs under himself. Springing to his feet, he buried his fist in the gut of one of the guards, the force of his entire body behind it._

"Are ye alright?"

Beckett's concerned voice barely reached John as his mind raced….

_The Wraith growled and stepped back as the two guards advanced on him. Before John could react, one of the guards raised his stunner and fired._

_The force of the blast staggered John, but to his surprise, unconsciousness didn't overtake him. For an instant, his body was numb… then the pain came. As if thousands of needles had been stabbed into him simultaneously. John felt like he was on fire. A strangled cry escaped him as he fell to his knees. _

John swallowed hard and glanced at Beckett's concerned expression. "I need some air." He started to walk away, only to feel Beckett's hand on his arm.

"Major, what is it?"

Shrugging out of Beckett's grip, he turned away. "Nothing," he muttered, before swiftly exiting the cottage.

---------------------

John sighed before drawing in a deep breath of the late morning air. He ran a hand through his unruly hair and slowly walked up the path away from Malfan's house. At the road, he paused, staring at the grasslands that stretched away from the opposite side of the road. Unconsciously, his hand came up to rest on his P-90 as he quickly crossed the path and started through the knee length grass. Bending over as he walked, John swiped a thick piece of grass. He shook his hand as the seed head shed all over his fingers. He felt dampness on his legs as the grass, still heavy with dew, brushed against his pants, but he continued walking. The cold dew matched his mood. He stopped suddenly and rolled the blade of grass between his thumb and forefinger. His mind pushed, vainly trying to rid itself of the images and feelings that plagued him, but for all his efforts, John couldn't escape. All the joy… the happiness… the contentment he'd felt holding Brianor's son was gone. In its place, was the pain and darkness that had routinely haunted him since his rescue.

Slowly, John walked on, leaving the Pallan village behind him. He felt like a dark cloud followed him wherever he went and influenced whatever he did. Again, he dwelt on the men he'd lost before, and again, he refused to see the latest casualty as any different. It was so clear… so perfectly explained in his head, that, oddly, it left him dumbfounded. There were consequences associated with command choices… repercussions from the deaths of Cooper and Bower, that he had to live with… had to accept. He'd done it before… and a decisive voice within him said he'd do it again. The memories and flashbacks bothered him the most. Wasn't he entitled to one moment of happiness? Of contentment? Of joy? 

Tension naturally gave way to anger as he chastised himself for dwelling on the past. He couldn't change what had happened, and thinking about it served no purpose. Irritated, he clenched his fingers, crushing the delicate shoot of grass between them. Whatever was trying to make this different was an excuse… and he wasn't going to let it beat him.

A commotion at the distant tree line derailed his thoughts. He reflexively lifted his P-90 as he scanned the trees, looking for the source of the noise. He felt adrenaline rush through him as his eyes darted around. His grip on his gun tightened as the disturbance drew closer and grew louder. Slowly, he walked towards the tree line as he flipped off the safety on the P-90.

Motion at the edge of the trees stopped him in his tracks. He drew in a deep breath and relaxed as half a dozen "sheep" burst through the trees, Pertus hot on their heels. The small boy was furiously trying to keep control, but the unruly animals stubbornly ran on ahead of him, despite his efforts.

John smiled in mild amusement. "Kid needs a sheepdog," he muttered, switching the P-90's safety back on before he jogged across the field at an angle that would put him at the head of the small flock. Still about fifty yards ahead of the "sheep", John stopped. He cocked an amused eyebrow, pulled his 9 mil and quickly fired two shots in the air. He grinned as the animals, confused by the loud unfamiliar noise ahead of them, stopped in their tracks.

John holstered his sidearm and watched as Pertus slowed to a walk and quietly circled around the flock. Ford's voice over John's headset grabbed his attention.

"Major? We heard gunfire. What's your situation?"

John reached up and tapped the call button. "Everything's fine, Lieutenant. Just helping Pertus herd his sheep."

"Oh great. You didn't kill any of them, did you?" Rodney's sarcastic voice broke into the conversation.

John rolled his eyes. "Funny. I'll be back in a few minutes. Sheppard out." He looked down as Pertus, still panting from his mad dash, walked over.

"You stopped them! What is that?" he pointed at John's holstered gun. "Can I see it?"

John's blood turned to ice water at Pertus' innocent expression. His grip on his holstered side arm tightened, the cold metal biting his palm. It was lethal, with the capacity to kill instantly… something Pertus was blissfully ignorant of. But John knew…. He knew it was lethal, knew it killed….

_Pulling his 9mm sidearm, John stood over the unconscious corporal and emptied a clip into another Wraith guard, who also fell. _

John swallowed hard and drew in a deep breath as his gaze fixed on Pertus' untainted expression. The naivety he saw wasn't a thinly veiled cover for thoughts… memories that shattered the purity of a soul. Pertus' innocence ran true. Part of John envied it, but part of him panicked at the idea of Pertus losing any of it. "No." John's reply was abrupt as he stepped back.

Hesitation replaced the innocence on Pertus' face. "Okay," he replied quietly.

John sighed, forcing his overreaction under control. He found a small smile. "But you're welcome for helping with your flock."

Pertus bit his lower lip and nodded, some of the hesitation leaving his face. "Thank you. The cool weather late in the year makes them feel good after the hot season."

John nodded. "I'll bet. You need any more help?"

His expression a cross between amazement and admiration, Pertus smiled up at John. "No, I can do it." He turned away and made quiet noises at the animals as he gently prodded the closest one with his stick. He looked back as his flock continued across the field, this time at a much slower pace. "'Bye, Major Sheppard!"

John held his small smile and waved. "'Bye, Pertus!" He inhaled deeply and watched the boy and his flock for a minute, before turning and heading back to Malfan's cottage.

Ford, McKay and Teyla were waiting outside the house as John walked down the path towards them. He nodded once at the Lieutenant and glanced at the door as it opened. Malfan walked out to join them. He smiled warmly at each of them, before settling his strong grip on John's shoulder.

A smile turned one corner of John's mouth, as he stared back at the Pallan elder.

Malfan's face radiated warmth as he smiled at John. "Your people are generous, John. It is a privilege to know you." Malfan's grip on John's shoulder tightened. "I hope this is the beginning of a long friendship between you and I… and our peoples."

John's half smile turned to a full one as he grasped Malfan's shoulder in response. "Me too, Malfan." He held the elder's gaze for a moment before stepping back.

"You are owed more of our upcoming harvest," Malfan glanced at each of John's team members. "If you return in two weeks, we will have it ready."

John nodded. "Sounds good. We'll be back then." John hesitated for a moment, before he slowly extended his hand. "Take it," he nodded at Malfan. "This is how we show our friendship where I come from."

Malfan hesitated a moment, before firmly taking John's hand.

"Two weeks." John broke his grip and stepped back. He looked at his team. "Let's go."

------------------------------

Elizabeth slowly walked down the stairs into the Gateroom as Major Sheppard and his team emerged through the Stargate. She sidestepped the supplies from Palla, already being removed from in front of the Stargate by Atlantis personnel, and stopped in front of John and Beckett. A smile formed on her face as she took in their easy, relaxed expressions. "Everything went well with the Pallan woman and her child?"

John smiled and glanced at Beckett, who replied, "Aye. They're both just fine."

Elizabeth nodded. "Well done, Carson, as usual."

Beckett shifted his pack on his shoulder, repositioning it. "I didn't do much, just examined them, but thank you. Excuse me." He walked away, leaving her alone with John.

Elizabeth looked around at the various crates of harvested food from Palla. She turned her attention to the Major. "This is going to help a lot. Is there more?"

John slowly started across the Gateroom and she followed along next to him. "Yeah, it'll be ready in two weeks. Malfan asked if we could come back then." 

"That should be fine," she responded. Elizabeth glanced at John's preoccupied expression as they approached the stairs. "Is something wrong, Major?"

John stopped at the base of the stairs, one foot resting on the bottom step as he met her questioning expression with a pensive one of his own. "It was a breech."

"What?" Confusion colored Elizabeth's voice.

John sighed and fixed her with a solemn expression. "Brianor's baby. He was premature and breech." John shook his head once and looked up the staircase. "They both almost died."

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment before pursing her lips and nodding. "I'm glad they didn't." Knowing there was more to this than what John was saying, she kept her tone carefully neutral.

John stared back for a moment and sighed. "The Pallans are… different than the other races we've met… except the Athosians… I don't mean they're like the Athosians, they're not… sort of… but they are…."

"John," Elizabeth interrupted his rambling. "What are you driving at?"

John grimaced and stared up at the command deck as he thought for a moment, before he gave her a confident look. "The Pallans are our friends…. I'd even call them allies, like the Athosians. And if they're our allies, then they deserve to be able to contact us if they need to… if they need help."

Elizabeth's eyes widened slightly as she stared back at him. Since arriving in Pegasus, they'd made many enemies, but they'd also made some friends. With the exception of the Athosians, this was the first time John had ever made a suggestion like this. "They've really won you over," she replied quietly.

"They're our friends, Elizabeth, it's only fair," John insisted.

Elizabeth shook her head. "We have lots of friends, John…."

John arched an eyebrow at her.

"Okay, we have a few friends," she amended, "but you've never suggested something like this before."

"We could've helped Brianor. Hell, we could help all of them if they ever need it. Isn't that what friends do for each other?" John looked away and inhaled sharply. "According to Teyla's connections, their sector of the galaxy is being heavily culled right now. They may need somewhere to go…"

"John," Elizabeth interrupted, "we can't take in every refugee in the galaxy. We're having a hard enough time taking care of ourselves."

John returned the favor. "I'm not asking you to take in everyone in the galaxy, Elizabeth!" He exhaled slowly. "I'm just asking you to help the Pallans."

Elizabeth shook her head and looked away for a moment. He was so convincing, but then again, John always was… whether he was right or not. As if he sensed her hesitation, John's voice broke her thoughts.

"Meet them."

Mildly surprised, Elizabeth stared back at him.

John smiled. "You're always complaining that you never get to go off world, well, now's your chance. Come with us when we go back. Meet them. Get to know them. Then make your decision. Fair enough?" John arched both brows at her.

Elizabeth smiled and shook her head, before nodding at him. "Okay. Fair enough."

------------------------------------

John sighed in disgust and pushed his data pad away from him and across the small desk he was working at. _Up to my eyeballs in paperwork… okay data pad work… _He sighed again. It had been a week since he'd been on Palla… a week since he'd been off Atlantis, and John chafed at the restriction. More than just cabin fever, daily he'd been forced to watch the other teams go on recon missions, supply trades and other off world missions. John briefly thought of all the times he'd complained at the boredom of off world trade agreements. Now, he'd about kill just to go on one. Anything to get off world.

John chuckled cynically. "Off world," he muttered. Standing, he crossed the balcony and leaned heavily on the railing. For a moment, his gaze drifted across the Gateroom to the control deck and Elizabeth's office, both opposite his position. He could just make out Elizabeth, hunched over her desk, buried in work, as usual. His gaze wandered before fixing on the inactive Stargate. _Off world…_ Again, he smiled cynically. Less than a year ago, the thought of going "off world" didn't even exist in his wildest dreams, yet now he found it was something he was loath to give up.

John's thoughts turned once more to his forced inactivity. Anger boiled in him, and with it frustration. He should be off world. He should be doing his job, not chained to a desk working out security rotations. His grip on the balcony's railing tightened and his gaze again fixed on Elizabeth's office. He had to find a way to show her he was okay, to convince her he could go off world again.

John started towards her office, only to stop in his tracks. He could feel the frustration churning within him, and knew he wore it on his face as well. If Elizabeth caught wind of it, the discussion would be done before it ever got started. John sighed, pushing down his anger and smothering it with the best calm and relaxed expression he could muster. After a minute he continued towards her office, his pace easy and relaxed… on the outside, anyway.

-------------------------------------

Elizabeth looked up from her laptop as she caught sight of motion in her doorway.

"Knock, knock," John leaned casually on the doorframe, and smiled at her. 

She returned the expression. "Come in." She watched him cross the room and settle into a chair opposite of her. "What's up?" Slightly puzzled by his pensive expression, She folded her hands on her desk. "John?"

John sighed. "Let me go off world."

Elizabeth arched her brows. "You do go off world, John, to Palla, when needed." She knew what he meant was so much more, but stared evenly back at him anyway.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," John quietly replied. He drummed his fingers quickly on the armrests of his chair. "I don't get why I'm still on restricted duty!" 

"John, I shouldn't even be letting you go to Palla! Dr. Heightmeyer wants more time to be sure you're okay, that's all. Be patient." Her gaze narrowed as his relaxed expression cracked slightly.

"Patient?" John snapped. "I've been patient. I keep telling you I'm fine. When are you going to listen to me instead of Heightmeyer?"

"Beckett, too," Elizabeth added. She refused to react when John sighed in irritation.

"Fine! Beckett, too." He pushed up out of the chair and paced the office. "So I guess my opinion doesn't matter?" 

"John, you're not being fair." Elizabeth stood, but stayed behind her desk. She watched the pacing Major intently. "You had a hell of an ordeal! Just give it some time." She fought not to recoil as John abruptly stopped and fixed her with an intense, almost menacing stare.

"Don't tell me how hellish my ordeal was." His voice lowered to a dangerously quiet tone. "Don't you think I know?"

Elizabeth's gaze narrowed at his dangerous expression. As much as she wanted to believe that he was fine, flashes such as this, hinting at deep-rooted anger, grounded her in reality. "No one is questioning that, believe me. But I'm sure you can understand why we're so hesitant."

A humorless, cynical smile flashed across his face. "Not particularly, no. I know my own head, Elizabeth. Believe me when I tell you, I'm fine."

Elizabeth pursed her lips and slowly shook her head. "No, John. Right now, I think we may know you better than you know yourself."

John pulled in a rapid breath, the anger on his face barely in check. "Damn it," he hissed, before turning and storming out her door.

Elizabeth watched him go, her gaze following him as he crossed the command room and exited out onto the Deck. She sat and stared at her laptop, but concentration eluded her. A voice inside of her urged her to pull John even from the Pallan missions, but she resisted. Every time he returned from Palla, he seemed almost himself, and Elizabeth was hesitant to endure what may happen is she removed that element from his life at this moment. She fought the urge to go to him, to try and talk some sense into him, knowing that, right now, he was in no mood to discuss anything. 

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. Experience dealing with the sometimes-brash Major had taught her one very important thing: in situations like this, you should give John Sheppard fifteen minutes before you tried to reason with him. Not particularly a hot head, Elizabeth reflected, but nonetheless very passionate in his beliefs. Still, that passion was tempered by a quick and agile mind, and an abundance of intelligence, combined with a unique ability to see other's points of view and think outside the box. He might be stubborn and act only on what he thought was right, but she knew that didn't mean that he didn't understand someone else's opinion.

So she sat at her desk, staring uselessly at her laptop, occasionally glancing at the far exterior door, for a good ten minutes before she allowed herself to go after him. Crossing the command room, she hesitated in front of the exterior door for a moment, and then reached up and lightly tapping the door crystal. She stepped out onto the warm Deck and stopped as the door closed behind her. 

John was turned away from her his body tense and still. Elizabeth sighed. "John?" She watched as the Major remained motionless. "John? Please talk to me." Her plea fell on deaf ears as John refused to move… refused to turn and face her.

Elizabeth sighed and crossed the Deck to him. Reaching out, she lightly touched him on the shoulder. "John, I…."

John's reaction to her hand on his shoulder caught her completely off guard. She stumbled hard as he whirled around and pushed her violently away from him. Barely catching her balance, Elizabeth looked up… and straight into the barrel of John's 9mil. handgun. She froze, swallowing hard as terror surged through her. "John." Her whispered voice shook as she stared at him.

Abruptly, the hard, dangerous expression on John's face lifted, to be replaced by confusion. "Elizabeth?" John's gaze fixed on his gun as his eyes widened in shock. "Damn it." He quickly lowered the weapon. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" He holstered his sidearm, his hand revealing a slight shake.

"I didn't sneak up on you!" Elizabeth gasped, acutely aware of the pounding of her heart.

John turned away. He grabbed the Deck railing with both hands and leaned heavily on it. His shoulders heaved as he took several deep breaths. "I didn't know you were there." John shook his head. "You startled me."

"Startled you?" Elizabeth was unable to keep the shock from her voice. "You pulled your gun on me, Major!"

John whirled and faced her, his fast movements causing her to back up a step. She stared at him. His eyes darted around the deck, as he pulled in rapid breaths. His brows furrowed and he pursed his lips, as he appeared to be struggling to find the right words.

At last, his gaze fixed on hers. He shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry."

Now it was Elizabeth's turn to look away and shake her head. "John…." She looked back at him, her voice hardening slightly. "If I didn't think the Pallan missions were helping you, I'd bench you right now, Major." She waited a moment, but when John didn't reply, she softened her tone and continued. "You really should talk to Heightmeyer." She raised her hand as John opened his mouth to protest. "No, don't say anything. I won't make it an order… yet. Because I'd like you to _want_ to talk to her." Elizabeth's gaze turned slightly pleading as she stared hard at him. "Think about what you just did, John, and then at least think about talking to Heightmeyer." Without another word, Elizabeth turned and left him standing alone on the Deck.


	4. Book II Chapter II

She paused at the top of the stairs, her gaze fixing on John. His relaxed expression held no signs of the man who had pulled his gun on her only a week before. Elizabeth shook her head. The ordeal still terrified her, but in the days since it had happened, she'd seen no trace of anything unusual in him. But somewhere inside of him, Elizabeth was convinced there was more going on than John would ever care to admit. She'd toyed with the idea of ordering him to see Heightmeyer, but each time she'd dismissed the thought. John Sheppard could be stubborn about stuff like this, and she knew he'd only rebel if she forced him, be uncooperative, and nothing would be accomplished.

In fact, she reasoned to herself, things could end up worse. Right now, Elizabeth felt John was at least marginally open with her. She didn't want to lose that, remove that outlet that he had, while he tried to work through things on his own. She sighed, acutely feeling like she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Pushing her thoughts away, she lightly skipped down the stairs into the gate room.

"Major." Elizabeth crossed the gate room and stopped next to John. "Are we ready to go?"

Checking the clip on his 9mil, John re-holstered the weapon and smiled. "As ready as we'll ever be."

Elizabeth tapped the call button on her radio. "Radek, dial Palla." She looked at Sergeant Bates. "We'll radio back when we're ready for you to start sending supplies through."

Bates pursed his lips and glanced at John, before looking back at Elizabeth. "Yes, ma'am."

"Something wrong, Sergeant?" John's gaze narrowed at the security chief.

"With all due respect, sir, I still don't think it's a good idea for Dr. Weir to go off world. Especially since the likelihood of this planet being culled in the near future is high."

Elizabeth could feel the tension from John, but beat him to a reply. "It's all right, Sergeant," she smiled, "we'll be fine."

Bates bit back a comment and nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He nodded in acknowledgement at John and walked away.

Elizabeth glanced at John's wry expression.

"Wet blanket," John muttered.

"Good balance for you," she quipped lightly.

John furrowed his brows and looked at her. "What does that mean?"

Elizabeth continued smiling, keeping the mood light. "Sometimes you're too easy going, John. Bates is a good balance for you."

Elizabeth watched as tension rose on John's face. His gaze was distant and his eyes glazed in dark memories. "John?" She lightly touched his arm, pulling back as he jumped slightly.

John's eyes refocused and he looked over at her. "Let's go." Reflexively lifting his P-90, he walked forward and through the wormhole.

Elizabeth watched for a moment, as John disappeared across the event horizon. His reaction concerned her: for the first time in days, she'd seen some hint that he wasn't entirely over his ordeal. She sighed. The frequent trips to Palla had kept him marginally satisfied and the pressure off her to return him to full off-world duty, but she could sense he was chafing at the restrictions. For a moment, she was taken with the urge to suspend him from all off-world missions again, but she dismissed the idea. Something about the Pallans was having a therapeutic effect on the Major, and she was hesitant to take that away. Elizabeth walked forward, following behind Rodney and towards the wormhole, all the while nodding to herself. For now, she was content to keep John just on the Pallan missions, and nothing else.

She felt the familiar chilling sensation as she crossed the event horizon. Almost instantaneously, she found herself stepping out into the warm sunshine of Palla. John was standing a few feet ahead of her, so she walked up next to him, and looked out across the valley.

Elizabeth inhaled slowly as she took in the scenery that met her. She smiled and looked over at John, who was already grinning.

"It's something, isn't it?"

Elizabeth looked back at the village and mountains. "It's breathtaking," she whispered. She glanced back at John, whose grin broadened before he turned and headed for a narrow path that led down through the trees.

"This way." John waved back at her.

For a moment, Elizabeth hesitated. As quickly as the tension had appeared in the Major, it was gone, replaced by the John Sheppard she knew so well. She cocked an eyebrow at his retreating back. Elizabeth wasn't sure if she should be concerned or reassured by the abrupt transformation.

"Ma'am?"

Ford's voice broke her thoughts and she flashed him a quick smile before she followed behind John down the steep trail. Elizabeth hazarded a glance back at McKay, who was right behind her. "Rodney, I can't believe you didn't want to come back here. This place is lovely."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not the outdoorsy type," Rodney replied. "Every moment I waste here, I could be doing important work back on Atlantis."

"You know, Rodney, maybe more fresh air would improve your mood," Beckett interjected.

"Very funny," Rodney snapped.

Elizabeth smiled as she carefully picked her way down the trail. Before long the gradient flattened out and widened into what could almost be called a road, enveloped in a canopy of trees.

John looked back at her again and smiled.

Elizabeth returned his smile and looked up at the trees as she followed along silently behind him. Already, she could see hints of what it was about this place that had him enraptured. From the moment she stepped through the gate, Elizabeth felt at ease… relaxed. Her thoughts turned unrealistic. The world itself, it seemed, had a calming air about it.

She smiled as the scenery around her turned agrarian. Cultivated fields lined the path, and small cottages started to appear. She stopped abruptly as John halted in front of her, staring across a large field. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but Elizabeth could swear he was squinting.

"Major?" Elizabeth followed his gaze to a group of Pallans, tending the crops. She glanced back at John who suddenly smiled.

"Pertus!" he called, a wide grin splitting his face.

Elizabeth glanced at Rodney, and did a double take at the smile that covered his face. She grinned slightly and looked away before the doctor noticed her gaze. He'd never admit it, but apparently the Pallans had endeared themselves to more than just Major Sheppard.

Elizabeth once more looked out over the field as a gangly youth raced towards them.

"Major Sheppard!" The boy's high tenor voice reached them. He stumbled hard, but caught himself and continued his headlong dash towards them.

Elizabeth glanced at John who was chuckling.

"Easy Pertus!" he called. "We're not going anywhere!"

Breathless, the boy staggered to a stop in front of John. "Major Sheppard," he repeated.

Elizabeth smiled softly, watching as John reached out and ruffled the boy's hair.

"Where's the flock?" John asked, smiling.

Pertus shrugged. "In the hills somewhere. We send them there for late season grazing. I will go after them in a week or so." He wrinkled his nose. "Right now, I have to help with the harvest." He abruptly looked at Elizabeth and smiled. "I'm Pertus. Who are you?"

Elizabeth grinned at the boy's open, trusting expression. "I'm Elizabeth Weir. You can call me Elizabeth, Pertus." She looked questioningly at Sheppard as Pertus motioned downwards.

John nodded. "Kneel down, Elizabeth, he can't reach you."

Elizabeth arched her brows but knelt before the Pallan boy anyway.

Pertus placed his right hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad to meet you, Elizabeth."

Her diplomatic and cultural skills kicking in, Elizabeth took the boy's cue and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad to meet you, Pertus." She smiled as the youth grinned. She stood as Pertus glanced over his shoulder for a moment before looking back at the team.

His gaze flicked to each of them. "I have to return or father will get mad. You're not going yet, are you?"

"Not yet," Rodney's tone was decidedly martyred as he sighed heavily.

"We will be at Malfan's, Pertus." Teyla smiled and brushed a hand over the boy's cheek.

Pertus' expression brightened. "I'll find you there!" He turned and raced back across the field.

Elizabeth watched him go. "He has so much…."

"Energy." John and Rodney both finished her sentence in unison.

Elizabeth laughed. "Yes." She followed John as he once more walked down the wide path. The cottages became more and more frequent as they made their way into the village itself. She continued following John as he turned off and took a narrow path to a cottage set back from the others.

He stopped in front of the door and looked at her. "Malfan's home." John walked closer to the door. "Malfan? It's John Sheppard!" After a moment, the door opened.

Elizabeth watched as a tall, older man walked out of the cottage, his face dominated by a warm smile.

"John!" Malfan grasped Sheppard's shoulder. "Welcome back."

Elizabeth's gaze switched to John. She smiled slightly at the respect and warmth that she saw in John's expression. In many ways, John Sheppard was a very closed man, and Elizabeth had come to learn that his respect wasn't something John gave freely. Without ever meeting the Pallan elder, Elizabeth found herself immediately trusting him. She returned her gaze to him and smiled openly at his warm expression.

"Malfan?" John said, "I'd like you to meet Dr. Elizabeth Weir. She is the leader of our people. Elizabeth?" John grabbed her attention. "This is Malfan, one of the Pallan elders."

Elizabeth smiled and nodded at Malfan. She arched an eyebrow as the Pallan extended his right hand to her.

"I believe this is the custom for your people, Dr. Weir?"

Elizabeth nodded and gently grabbed his hand. "It is. Please, call me Elizabeth." Drawing on her own diplomatic experience, her encounter with Pertus, and what she'd seen transpire between Sheppard and Malfan, Elizabeth pulled her hand from his grasp and gently grabbed Malfan's shoulder. "I'm glad to meet you, Malfan."

Malfan's smile turned respectful as he returned the gesture. "And I you, Elizabeth." He turned to John. "The supplies are ready. A group of my people are waiting in the village center to take them to the Ring for you."

John looked over his shoulder at Ford. "Lieutenant? You know the routine. Take the Pallans and the supplies back to the gate, dial home and oversee the trade. Find us when you're finished."

"Yes, sir." Ford nodded once and briskly walked back down the path towards the village center.

Malfan turned and gestured through the open doorway. "Please, come in."

Elizabeth smiled briefly at John before she followed Malfan into the cottage. Instantly, she felt at home in the cozy house. She followed Malfan to a large fireplace where a fire was strongly crackling.

"Malfan?" Carson asked as he stopped next to her, "I'd like to see Brianor and the wee one, if I can."

"Of course," Malfan immediately responded. "She has been expecting you."

Elizabeth nodded slightly at Carson. She watched as the doctor crossed to a back room and disappeared through the doorway.

"Elizabeth."

She looked over at Malfan, her gaze slightly questioning.

"Please, be seated. May I offer you food? Drink?" Malfan gestured at a sturdy table on the other side of the room.

Elizabeth nodded. "Some water would be nice, thank you." She took a seat at the table, John sitting right next to her, with Teyla and Rodney settling in opposite, while Malfan went into the kitchen area. She glanced at John, who was smiling smugly. "What?"

He waggled his eyebrows mischievously. "Told you so."

Keeping her expression light, Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "Hmm. You're never going to let this go, are you?"

John grinned and waggled his eyebrows once again, but said nothing.

Elizabeth looked up as Malfan returned, a tray with several stout clay cups in his hands. He set the tray on the table before sitting down at its head. She took a cup, and the rest of the team followed her lead. She took a long sip before she set the cup down and gazed warmly at Malfan. "I wanted to thank you for trading openly and fairly with us, Malfan."

Malfan nodded slowly at her. "The medicines you traded to us are more than fair for a share of our crops. They are very generous. From what your people tell me, they will benefit my people greatly."

"They will," John answered.

Elizabeth looked over her shoulder as Carson emerged from the back room. She raised her eyebrows in question, at which Carson smiled.

"They're fine." Carson stopped and looked down at Malfan. "Both mother and son are healthy."

As if on cue, the back door once again opened and Brianor slowly walked towards them, her son cradled in her arms.

Malfan immediately stood and crossed the room to his daughter. He beamed at her before turning his attention to his grandson. Malfan's expression turned proud. After a long moment, he looked up and directly into Elizabeth's eyes. "Come, Elizabeth, meet my grandson."

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment and smiled at John. Part of her was in awe at the open and trusting nature of the Pallan people. She'd been dubious of John's claims that the Pallans were very different, but now she found herself agreeing with him. "They're amazing," she whispered.

John's expression turned contemplative as he gazed intently at her. "Yes, they are."

She held his eyes for another second before nodding and crossing the room to Malfan and Brianor. The Pallan woman smiled warmly at Elizabeth.

"Brianor, love," Malfan gestured at Elizabeth. "This is Dr. Elizabeth Weir. Elizabeth, my daughter Brianor, and my grandson, Korsef."

Elizabeth smiled at Brianor before looking down at the sleeping infant. "He's beautiful." Her eyes widened slightly as Brianor lifted the infant towards her.

"Would you like to hold him?"

An excited pleasure came over Elizabeth, and she grinned and nodded. Holding out her arms, she carefully took the infant from Brianor and held him close. She gazed down into the peaceful face as a flush of warmth spread through her. With one finger, she shifted the blanket back to get a glimpse of his whole face. Giddiness swept through her, and she laughed quietly as she realized she had been unconsciously rocking back and forth.

Elizabeth felt a presence behind her and turned her head, meeting John's compassionate gaze. He peered over her shoulder at the infant. Feeling another presence, Elizabeth looked over her other shoulder as Rodney also came up behind her and made soft cooing noises. Elizabeth's jaw dropped. Baby noises were the last thing she thought she'd ever hear come from Rodney's mouth.

Catching her incredulous look, Rodney fell silent. He quickly looked at John and Teyla's similar expressions. "What? It's a baby! I'm just making baby noises!"

"Not while they're sleeping!" John hissed back.

"Shh!" Elizabeth quietly chastised both of them. She once again looked down into the sleeping infant's face. A moment of regret took her as her thoughts settled on Simon. They'd planned to someday have children together. Once again, as she had more times than she could count since arriving on Atlantis, she wondered if she'd ever see him again.

Elizabeth carefully handed the child back to Brianor. "Thank you." As the Pallan woman gazed lovingly at her child, Elizabeth stared hard at her. She then looked at Malfan for a moment, meeting his warm gaze with a slight smile, before she once again looked at Brianor. She dwelled on her conversation with John the last time he'd returned from Palla.

"_You're always complaining that you never get to go off world, well, now's your chance. Come with us when we go back. Meet them. Get to know them. Then make your decision. Fair enough?"_

Her thoughts shifted to the infant… to Simon… to family. In the back of Elizabeth's mind, the dark shadow that was the Wraith threat lingered. Elizabeth pursed her lips and nodded to herself. Reaching inside her coat, she pulled a piece of paper from her interior pocket and held it out to Malfan. "Take this."

His expression questioning, Malfan slowly took the piece of paper. He unfolded it and stared at a row of symbols that crossed it.

"That's the gate address to reach us, Malfan. I want you to contact us if you ever need anything. If there's ever…," she pressed her lips together and stared hard at him, "a problem."

She reached up and removed her headset and slipped it into her pocket. From inside her jacket, she lifted her radio off her belt clip and unplugged the headset from it. She glanced at John, whose eyes widened for a moment before he smiled and nodded slightly. She nodded back before returning her attention to Malfan. She turned off the radio power and held it out to him. "This is a radio. It's a way to talk to us once you dial our gate address." Elizabeth stared hard at Malfan. "It's very, very important that you contact us before you try to come through the gate. We have defenses that protect us from unwelcome visitors. We can lower those defenses and let you in, once we know it's you that has dialed us, but you must contact us before you come through."

Malfan reached out and carefully took the radio from her grasp. "How…?"

John stepped forward. He took the radio from Malfan's hand and pointed at a small button on the top. "This turns it on. Leave it as it is now, unless you need to use it. Turn this," he turned the power knob, "press this," he depressed the call button, " and talk into it." He held the radio up to his mouth. "Lieutenant? How goes the trade?" He let go of the call button and smiled again at Malfan. "Let go of this button and you'll be able to hear what we're saying to you."

"Sir," Ford's voice immediately responded, bringing astounded looks from both Malfan and Brianor. "We're just about done here."

Once again, John lifted the radio. "Copy that. We're at Malfan's house. Come back here when you're done. Sheppard out."

"Yes, sir. Ford out."

John smiled, turned off the radio and handed it back to Malfan. His expression turned sober. "If you or any of your people need us, call us. We'll help you."

Elizabeth captured Malfan's eyes and nodded in agreement. She watched as Malfan's confused expression turned to one of gratitude. He looked at Brianor, whose face mirrored his, before he met Elizabeth's warm gaze again.

"Thank you. My people are indebted to your generosity." His air turned jovial. "You must stay. We are having a celebration tonight in honor of Brianor's child. I would be delighted to have you as guests!"

Elizabeth nodded. It had been so long since any of them had time to relax, and the party sounded inviting. "We'd love to stay, thank you." She was distracted by the slight shake of Brianor's head.

"I must put Korsef to bed for the night first, father."

Malfan smiled. "Of course, love. Join us when you're able." Malfan returned his gaze to the Atlantis team as Brianor walked back to her room. "Come! Let us have an ale or two, and celebrate our friendship!" He quickly headed for the kitchen, trusting that they would follow.

"Eat, drink and be merry?" Rodney asked. "Did anyone happen to see any citrus fruit around here?"

"Relax, Rodney," Carson replied blandly. "I have an eppi pen if ye need it." He was the first to follow the Pallan man, but Rodney was right behind him.

"Oh, that's amusing, Carson! I'll probably keel over and die from anaphylaxis before you figure out how to use it!"

Elizabeth shook her head and chuckled. Teyla's quiet voice grabbed Elizabeth's attention.

"Dr. Weir? I wish to stay behind and visit with Brianor."

Elizabeth nodded. "Of course." She started to follow Beckett and Rodney, John right behind her. After a few steps, Elizabeth felt John's firm grip on her arm. She stopped and turned to face him. Her gaze narrowed at his expression… a cross between relief and gratitude.

"Thanks, Elizabeth." John's voice was quiet but the sincerity was easily heard.

"You're welcome." Her gaze grew quizzical as a small smile pulled at her mouth. "I suppose this is the point where I say you were right?"

John's eyes twinkled with amusement, and mischief touched his expression. "Usually."

Elizabeth arched her eyebrows. "Good. I'm glad you know. Now I don't have to tell you." She turned and walked across the room, the sound of John's quiet chuckles giving her the giggles.

---------------------------

The setting sun warming his back, John took a long pull of his ale. A short distance away, Elizabeth sat at a small, sturdy table talking quietly with a Pallan woman. His gaze settled on her. Her face was relaxed, an easy smile dominating her features as she laughed at something the Pallan woman said. Unable to stop himself, John smiled in response. He hadn't seen her this relaxed in a long time. The burden of leadership had weighed heavily on her, these past months, but then again, it had on them all.

John's smile faded. The low simmer within him of anger and frustration boiled to the surface as he was, once again, assaulted with unwelcome flashbacks.

_"Sir… I can't… there's no way I can escape now…."_

_"Cooper, don't. I'm not leaving you behind. We are both going to get out of here. Have I made myself clear?" _

"_Yes, sir."_

John drained his cup, ignoring the bite of the robust drink. He leaned back against the tree he stood by and took a deep breath as the ale coursed through his body. The pain… the frustration… the anger that constantly plagued him gave way to the numbing effects of the drink and, deep inside, he felt relief. For the first time since his ordeal, he felt free of his pain, and his spirit cherished the relief… utterly ignoring how he'd achieved it.

He stared down at his empty cup. It took everything he had to resist the urge to find a refill… to have another ale… then another… and another…. A voice whispered to him, seduced him… urged him to take that path… to find that relief from pain….

He shook his head and stood up straight. He turned and faced the setting sun. He'd endured many things in his life – the deaths of his mother and his two best friends, his estrangement with his father –but never had he considered drowning any of it in drink. It was an alien feeling to him, and in many ways scared the hell out of him.

He closed his eyes, letting the sun warm his face. He willed himself to relax, allowing at least that much of the ale's effect to help him. A voice behind him grabbed his attention.

"You seem preoccupied, Major." A nearly empty cup of ale in his hand, Malfan came up next to John. "Is the celebration not to your liking?"

John flashed Malfan a reassuring smile. "No, the party is great. It's exactly what we needed."

Malfan smiled. "Then why do you not join us, my friend?"

John sighed. "I have a lot on my mind, Malfan. I have to watch out for my people, find a way to protect them…." His voice trailed off. John knew his excuse was a weak one, but it was all he could come up with.

"I see." Malfan nodded as he sipped his ale. "The burden of leadership is a heavy burden to carry alone, John. I look at my people, and wish there was something I could do to save them from the Wraith." He smiled and nodded at John. "Your offer to help is generous to say the least. It brings much peace to my mind."

John nodded back, before returning his gaze to the horizon.

"Have you lost anyone to the Wraith, John?"

Malfan's question assaulted John's self control. He stiffened and pursed his lips, fighting to suppress the wave of negative emotions that flowed over him. "Yes." He glanced at Malfan, who nodded.

"I lost my wife to a Wraith culling when Brianor was but a child. It is a loss that I have never forgotten… but one I learned to live with."

John nodded silently, his tumultuous mind really not accepting the Pallan's words. He sighed and looked at Malfan as the Pallan elder turned to face him.

"You must put your loss behind you John. Never forget it…. Do not try to forget it. But do not let it rule your life."

John's gaze narrowed. Wisdom, understanding and warmth all permeated Malfan's words, and blanketed his expression. Slowly, John nodded.

Malfan's thoughtful expression gave way to a relaxed smile. "Come now, we have much to celebrate, my friend."

Malfan's happiness was infectious and John found himself smiling in return. He felt Malfan's hand on his arm and allowed himself to be guided back to the party. As they passed a nearby table, Malfan discarded his empty cup and grabbed two mugs of ale. He pushed one into John's hand.

"For Brianor and my grandson." Malfan took a long sip of ale.

John smiled. Only a few minutes before, he'd denied himself another ale, but now he felt content to join the Pallan elder in his salute. This time, the warmth of the Pellan people filled his heart, and the thought of Brianor and the new life of her child gave him reason to celebrate. He smiled, tipped his mug at Malfan and drank.

"Major Sheppard!"

John turned his head at the adolescent voice hailing him. His smile broadened as Pertus made his way through the crowd of people. "Pertus," John grinned down at the boy, "having fun?"

"Yes!" Pertus beamed, "I usually have to be sleeping by now, but tonight father let me stay awake." He eyed Sheppard's mug. "Can I have some?"

John arched his brows. Not sure of Pallan society's rules regarding alcohol, he looked to Malfan for guidance.

Malfan's expression sobered slightly. "No. Pertus, you know better. Major Sheppard does not know our ways. It is wrong for you to ask him because of it."

Pertus chewed on his lower lip for a moment, before looking hesitantly at Sheppard. "I am sorry."

John smiled. "It's okay." He nodded towards the center of the celebration. "Go on, have fun."

Pertus again grinned widely, the moment's hesitation lost. Without another word he turned and ran off, rapidly disappearing into the crowd.

John chuckled as the boy vanished.

"I am sorry, John. He should not have asked you."

John shook his head and cocked an amused brow at Malfan. "It's okay. I did the same kind of thing when I was his age." He chuckled again, as Malfan's quiet laugh joined in.

"As did I," Malfan admitted. He clinked his mug against John's. "To youth!"

John took a long sip, the lightness in his heart at Pertus' childhood innocence lingering.

"John!"

A light female voice behind him caught John's attention. He turned around and smiled at Brianor. Her face was slightly flushed and expression giddy as she extended her hand to him.

"Dance with me, John!" Brianor confidently grabbed John's hand and pulled him towards a large open area where other couples were already dancing to a fast, springy tune.

John resisted, but Brianor kept pulling on his hand insistently. He glanced at Malfan who just chuckled. "Uh… I don't…," John started, his voice trailing off as Malfan pushed him in a not-so-gentle manner.

"You may as well say yes, John, for my daughter has never taken no for an answer!" Malfan laughed loudly.

The joyous mood around him was infectious and John chuckled before raising his hand at Brianor. "Now wait a minute, I don't…," his voice trailed off as an undeterred Brianor interrupted him.

"I will teach you. It is not hard. Now dance with me!" She emphasized her words with a strong pull on John's arm.

John still resisted. He looked in almost a pleading manner at Malfan, but the Pallan man just smiled and shook his head in a very 'you're on your own' manner.

"Go, man!" Malfan shouted, his words coming between loud chuckles. "Dance!"

John couldn't resist the happy mood that surrounded him and followed the path of ale that surged through him. He shook his head in resignation, his chuckles joining the laughter that surrounded him. "Okay, okay! Just… wait a minute!" John waved at Ford, who crossed over to them.

"Sir?" Ford looked around.

John's gaze momentarily narrowed at the slight glassy look to Ford's eyes. Sheppard glanced down at the half-full mug in the young Lieutenant's hand. "Just how many of those have you had, Lieutenant?"

Ford's mouth split into a wide, toothy smile. "Only a couple, sir."

John arched a mock-serious eyebrow at Ford. "Lieutenant, I'm not carrying you back to the gate."

"Of course not!" Malfan interrupted loudly. "We will!" His words brought a round of rousing laughter from anyone in earshot of the conversation.

Brianor once again tugged on John's arm. "John! Enough talk! Dance with me now!"

Sheppard reached up and unclipped his P-90 before handing it off to Ford. "Hold this for me, Lieutenant."

Ford took the proffered weapon with his free hand. "Yes, sir. Have fun."

John arched an eyebrow as he watched the dancers whirl quickly around the open dance space, their feet moving in what seemed like an intricate pattern. As he looked back at Ford, John's expression turned dubious. "Yeah, right."

"Enough talk!" Without letting go of John's hand, Brianor reached out and grabbed his other one, pulling John towards the dancers. "It is a simple dance, John, I will show you."

John fidgeted uncomfortably. "I'm not much of a dancer, Brianor…," he again protested, but she shook her head at him insistently.

"Nonsense! You just need practice." She stepped close to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Put your hands on my waist, John."

John slowly reached out, his hands unconsciously tightening on her soft waist. He resisted the urge to pull her close, and focused his attention on her feet.

Brianor smiled. "Now watch. It is easy." She slowly worked through the dance step and then once again smiled at him. "You try."

John duplicated her steps twice. As he started for the third time, Brianor joined him.

"Faster!" She pulled him further into the dance area as they quickened their step.

John grinned openly at Brianor's smiling face and his feet unconsciously fell into a pattern as they spun around the dance area. The step really was easy, he realized. He arched his eyebrows mischievously at her and again quickened the pace.

Brianor laughed lightly and kept pace with him.

Her laugh was infectious and John laughed with her as he pulled her closer and once again sped up, gratified as she continued to keep pace with him.

"I thought you were not good at dancing!" Brianor's voice was slightly out of breath from exercise and laughter.

John cocked an eyebrow. "I lied."

Brianor laughed loudly and abruptly sped up the pace, forcing John to follow. Momentarily off balance, he quickly regained his pace and met her step for step.

"Who's leading here?" He chuckled at her undaunted expression.

"I am of course!" Brianor immediately responded. As if to prove her point, she pulled him to the right.

Unfortunately, John had the same idea and simultaneously pulled her left. The battle of wills unbalanced both of them, and his grip tightened on her as their feet tangled and he felt himself falling backwards. Twisting his body, he pulled her on top of him, cushioning her fall as they both tumbled to the ground. For an intense moment, the laughter that surrounded them was lost to him as he stared into her eyes. Her face scant inches from his and her warm, soft body resting on top of him, he was acutely aware of the effect the strong Pallan woman was having on him. From the peculiar look on her face, he knew Brianor had the same realization.

Abruptly, she laughed lightly and pushed herself off of him, breaking the spell of the moment. Uncalled-for desire within John turned to giddiness as his laughter joined hers and everyone else's.

They both slowly stood, amidst the laughter and good-natured barbing that surrounded them. After a moment, the musicians struck up a new tune and John nodded at the predictable one, two, three beat of the music. He smiled and grabbed Brianor's hand. "My turn." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "But you have to let me lead."

Brianor laughed and nodded. "All right."

John lifted her hand to his shoulder. He took her other hand and held it within his as he wrapped his free arm around her, placing his hand in the small of her back. Tightening his grip slightly, he pulled her closer to him.

Slowly, he started off in a waltz step, holding her firmly as she struggled to follow his lead. Her struggle was short lived, as her agility enabled her to catch on to the rhythmic step very quickly. Before long, John was leading her around the dance space in a relaxed waltz.

"You **can** dance." Brianor smiled warmly.

John grinned and nodded. "It's a little known fact about John Sheppard." He pulled his eyes from her gaze and looked around. To his surprise, he noticed that somewhere along the way, a Pallan man had brought Elizabeth to the dance, and another had coaxed Teyla into participating. A short brunette Pallan woman had somehow roped even Ford, with two P-90's hanging from his vest, into a dance. John's eyes widened as Carson Beckett breezed by, agilely leading a redhead woman through the crowd of dancers. John's gaze settled on the last hold out. Standing off to the side, Rodney was shaking his head emphatically at two Pallan women, who were giggling and nodding. John chuckled and returned his attention to Brianor. "McKay doesn't stand a chance, does he?"

Brianor looked over her shoulder at the scene and laughed quietly. "No. He has already lost."

True to her word, it was only a minute more before one of the Pallan women, a medium-height blonde, pulled Rodney into the dance space.

John stared into Brianor's eyes as they continued across the floor. The dance ended and Brianor stepped back from him. "I think I will take a walk. Will you join me, John?"

John smiled and nodded. "Sure. Just a second." He crossed the wide space to Ford and gestured at his P-90. "Thanks for watching it, Lieutenant."

Ford unclasped the weapon from his vest and surrendered it to John. "Made for interesting dancing, sir."

John chuckled as he attached the gun to his own vest and let it hang. "I'll bet." He turned and walked back to Brianor, the easy relaxed smile on his face spreading its effect through his body. It had been a long time since he'd felt this at ease, especially since….

John shook his head, dismissing the thoughts that tried to blanket him in dark emotions. Vaguely, the murmur of fear and anger whispered to him, but John pushed it away. He stopped in front of Brianor. "Ready?"

Brianor's smile faded slightly as she gave his P-90 a long stare, before she looked into his eyes. She kept a slight smile and nodded. "Yes."

John walked easily beside the Pallan woman as she led him across a large, moonlit field. He felt dampness on his feet from the first signs of dew already touching the night-time grass.

"Do you always carry your weapon, John?"

Brianor's question surprised him. John nodded, his actions nearly invisible in the moon-dappled night. "Whenever I'm off Atlantis, yes."

"I see," Brianor answered. "Do you feel you are in danger here?"

John's right hand unconsciously came to rest on his 9 mil. "Not at the moment, no." He walked on with her in silence for several minutes before Brianor spoke again.

"You have met the Wraith."

Her unquestioning statement caught him off guard, and John stiffened slightly as he fought away memories. "More than I'd ever want to." His voice was quiet as he tried to keep his tone neutral. It was a vain effort as Brianor stopped and faced him. He turned towards her and stared evenly back. Acutely aware of her light scent, he pulled in a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly.

"My mother was taken when I was very young. I have precious few memories of her," Brianor stated quietly. "I see so many of my people who have suffered the same losses as me… and so many of them whose lives are ruined because they cannot let it go."

John stepped back from her, a strong need to isolate himself… to keep from being exposed coursing through him. "Why are you telling me this?"

Brianor took a step towards him, refusing to let John back away. "Because I see loss in your eyes, John. I hear it in your voice, and see it in your actions." She took another step, closing the distance between them to mere inches.

Mesmerized by her closeness, John couldn't pull away. He stared back at her knowing gaze, barely visible in the twilight. His breath caught in his throat as Brianor reached up and gently stroked his cheek.

"Do not let loss ruin you, John," she whispered.

John felt her words… her caring… her compassion sink to the very core of his spirit. He swallowed and pulled in a ragged breath, as words escaped him. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and pulled her against him. He winced as his P-90 bit into his gut, and hastily pulled it aside, replacing the uncompromising hardness of the gun with the soft touch of flesh. Her warm, yielding body melted into his, and for a moment, he let his cheek rest against her smooth hair. He reached up and gently cupped the back of her head with one hand as he pulled back and looked into her eyes.

Even in the near darkness, he saw in her gaze the same passion and desire he knew was in his. Slowly, he leaned forward and kissed her lightly. Again, he pulled back, heat swelling within him, as she reached up and ran her hands through his short hair.

John continued to hold her head as his other arm tightened around her waist. Leaning forward, he kissed her again, this time more confidently… a confidence she returned. Deepening the kiss, he pulled her as close to him as he could as her lips parted and her tongue lightly sparred with his. He returned the favor, the rush of passion surging through him. He lived in the moment, the thought of Wraith, of anger… of frustration lost to the warm haze of desire.

Abruptly, Brianor stiffened and quickly pulled back. John let her go, but stared questioningly at her as he panted slightly. "What is it?" His gaze narrowed as she swallowed hard, her own breathing rapid.

"I… I am sorry. I just… I can't…."

John's feelings abruptly turned from desire to compassion as he grabbed one of her hands and enfolded it in his grasp. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

Brianor reached up with her other hand and rested it on top of his. "It has only been a few months since my husband died. I felt… panicked." Her face twisted into a grimace as she tried to make sense of what she was feeling. She looked away from him.

John brought his free hand up to embrace hers as he sighed deeply. "Brianor, look at me." He waited for a long moment, before the Pallan woman finally met his gaze. He smiled at her tenderly and gave her his best understanding expression. "It's okay. I won't pressure you into something you don't want."

"No," Brianor immediately protested. "I do want it… you. It is just too fast… too soon."

John reached up and ran his thumb over her cheek tenderly. "It's okay," he repeated. "We can take this as slow as you want." He felt her hand, cradled within his strong grasp, tighten on his.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

John smiled tenderly. "Don't be." He moved his hand around to her back, and wrapped both arms around her. Silently, he pulled her into a warm embrace. He closed his eyes as he felt her soft check meet his, and her gentle breath ruffling the hair around his ear while he quietly stroked her head. Vaguely, he felt the bite of his P-90 in his hip, but he paid it no heed. Content to hold her as long as she needed, he stood rooted in place, his grasp on Brianor never weakening.

---------------------------------

John sighed as he watched Ford stumble again. The young lieutenant wasn't exactly drunk…but he wasn't exactly sober either. "Take it easy, Ford," John commented as he struggled to keep a smile from his face.

"Yes, sir."

Ford's preoccupied response only made John smile more widely. He glanced at Elizabeth, who walked easily beside him. "Lightweight," John muttered. He grinned as Elizabeth giggled quietly.

"Be nice, he's young," she responded.

"I have a feeling I'm going to be handing out a lot of aspirin in the morning," Carson interjected as he fell into step on the other side of Weir.

John leaned forward slightly and looked at the Scottish doctor. Even in the darkness he could just make out Carson's hand rubbing his temple. John smiled. "With the first half dozen going to you?"

Carson sighed loudly. "Aye, and the second going to Ford." He looked over at John. "You won't be far behind, Major."

John cocked an eyebrow but refused to reply. He sighed. "Bates is going to have kittens we're so late." Deftly, he changed the subject.

"It's not like he doesn't know we're fine," Rodney interjected. "He's already called and checked in…."

"Twice." John rolled his eyes before chuckling.

"Right." Rodney's face scrunched up. "Huh, why do I only remember his grating voice calling once?"

Sheppard arched an eyebrow at Rodney, an action that was lost in the late night darkness. "Maybe because Ford isn't the only lightweight around here?"

"Very funny," Rodney muttered.

"Or it was the pretty blonde Pallan woman that distracted him?" Elizabeth joined into the good-natured barbing.

John had to visualize Rodney's annoyed expression, but his irritated sigh came through loud and clear.

"Fine. What is this? Make fun of McKay night?"

"You're not alone, McKay," Ford responded as he slowly, and deliberately, stepped over a large tree root in the path.

"I have you for company?" Rodney snapped. "Oh, that gives me great comfort." Quickening his pace, Rodney caught up with Ford, leaving John, Carson and Elizabeth to bring up the rear.

"Where did you learn to waltz?" Elizabeth glanced at John, her voice holding a note of surprise.

John chuckled. "Are you kidding? With a father who was career military? With all the formal and state balls dad went to. I learned at a young age. Yet another useless piece of trivia you know about me."

Elizabeth giggled. "Makes sense, when you put it that way. I just never pictured you the waltzing type."

"Well, don't get used to it, Matilda." John glanced at Elizabeth, smiling slightly at her relaxed expression. "Still, this was just what we needed."

Elizabeth's sigh was content. "Yes, definitely. We have to do this more often." She reached up and rubbed her own temples. "Except without the ale."

John chuckled. "I take it the third dose of aspirin will be going to you?"

Elizabeth glanced at him. "I though that was yours?"

John's chuckled deepened. "Not a chance. I don't get hangovers. Never have."

"You've got to be kidding me." Elizabeth sighed.

"Nope." John smiled broadly as she quickened her pace and walked out in front of him. She quickly caught up with Teyla, leaving John walking next to Carson. John reached up and rubbed his face. His coat sleeve passed close to his nose, and he paused as he caught a whiff of Brianor's lingering scent. He slowly dropped his arm, and sighed deeply as his body remembered her touch. He could feel her soft hair, her warm body, and her gentle kiss. Desire rose within him and he suddenly felt the need for a cold shower.

"Major?"

Carson's voice snapped John from his thoughts. "Yeah?"

"You're awfully quiet. Are you sure you don't get hangovers?"

John smiled. "Positive. Sorry, Doc. Just lost in my thoughts for a minute there."

"No problem." Carson was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "You and Brianor vanished for a while. Where did you two get off to?" he asked, innocently.

John arched an eyebrow at the doctor's casual question. "We went for a walk."

"Ah, I see. A walk."

Silence again descended between the two men, and for that John was grateful. He wasn't prepared to discuss his relationship with Brianor. Hell, before tonight, he didn't even know there was one.

"Lovely perfume the Pallan woman have," Carson broke the silence again. "Sarina? The girl I was dancing with? She was wearing it. She said that most Pallan women wear it for special occasions."

John swallowed hard as a flush crept up his neck. "Really?" he answered.

"Aye," Carson responded knowingly. "You, uh… may want to wash your coat, Major. The scent is all over it."

John was grateful it was so dark, otherwise the flush that raced over his entire face would've been painfully visible to the doctor. "Thanks… I will." John rubbed his neck self-consciously. "Doc…."

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me," Carson interrupted. "Although with the way you two disappeared for a while, I'd imagine it's not as much of a secret as you think it is."

An embarrassed knot formed in John's stomach. "Damn," he muttered. "Elizabeth?" Even through the darkness, John could sense Carson's grin.

"Aye, she knows. She didn't say it in so many words, but she knows." Carson chuckled.

"Damn," John repeated.

"Major," Carson's tone sobered slightly, "no one begrudges you the right, least of all Elizabeth."

"I don't want her to think my reasons for giving the Pallans a radio and our address are strictly personal. I mean they are, the Pallans are amazing, but not _personal _personal…."

"Major," Carson once again interrupted, "Elizabeth knows you too well to ever think that."

John smiled, his apprehension slowly melting away. "Thanks, Doc."

"Sure." Carson fell behind John as the trail narrowed and they started up the last, steep incline to the gate.

John winced as he heard the emphatic, whispered, cussing of Ford, accompanied by a quiet crash of bushes as the slightly inebriated Lieutenant stumbled in the darkness. John stifled a chuckle. "You okay, Ford?"

"Yes, sir," Ford's irritated voice responded.

"I'm fine too, thanks for asking!" Rodney interjected. "No thanks to this half-drunk idiot."

"Shut up, McKay! You tripped first!" Ford shot back.

"Okay, that's enough you two." John sighed.

"I will make sure they do not hurt themselves." Teyla looked back at John for a moment, before she quickened her pace to catch up with Ford and Rodney.

Before long, John stepped out of the trees into the small plateau clearing that surrounded the gate. He waved at Rodney. "Dial it up." He glanced at Elizabeth and smiled. "You're going to hate yourself in the morning," he grinned.

Elizabeth glared at him, her expression plain in the glow from the shimmering wormhole. "Shut up, Major."

John's grin turned to a chuckle as he followed her through the Stargate.

------------------------------------

John briskly ascended the steps to the command deck, his eyes scanning for Elizabeth. He stopped next to one of the Ancient consoles and continued looking around. "Where's Dr. Weir?"

Peter Grodin, never taking his eyes from the computer he was working on, gestured vaguely in the direction of the exterior door. "Out there. She needed some air…."

John arched an amused eyebrow at the preoccupied doctor. "Thanks." He walked to the door, tapped the control crystal and stepped out onto the Deck. He stopped and stared at Elizabeth's back as the door closed behind him. He crossed his arms and smiled smugly. "How's the head?"

Elizabeth turned and looked at him for a moment, her gaze narrowing. "How would you like to go back to M55-821 for reconnaissance?" she asked, naming the planet they'd recently visited with conditions that made the Sahara look like a garden spot.

John arched both brows. "Point taken. You wanted to see me?"

Weir smiled at him. "Yes."

John pursed his lips at the hesitation he saw in her expression. "What is it?"

Elizabeth's smile deepened. "Nothing as bad as you think. I have a favor to ask."

John casually strolled across the Deck. He nonchalantly rested one arm on the railing and stared evenly back at her. "Okay, what?" He watched her lean back against the railing.

"You know that Drs Hastings and Schluter are slated to join Bates and Stackhouse's teams."

John nodded. "I read the report. What's the favor?" His gaze narrowed at her hesitant expression. "Why do I think I'm not going to like this?"

Elizabeth smiled sheepishly. "Well, they've never really been off world. I want them to get their feet wet on something safe before they start going on new missions with the teams."

John sighed. "Elizabeth…."

"Now, I know how much you hate babysitting scientists, John, but your Pallan missions are perfect for them to get a taste of going off world," Elizabeth rushed on. "Besides," she smiled, "you owe me a favor or two."

The humor disappeared from John's face as his mind barely registered her words. His thoughts raced as he looked out over the ocean. The last " "routine" mission he'd taken two scientists on… one to explore the last Lagrangian Point Satellite, preoccupied him. Both those men had died on that "safe" mission. The small whisper of reason, which always tried to talk sense into him, once again insisted that she was right, and that he wasn't thinking clearly, but John paid it no heed. He stood up straight and met Elizabeth's puzzled look. "It isn't safe."

Elizabeth's puzzled expression intensified. "What?"

John pushed away from the railing and walked across the Deck. A dozen paces away, he turned and faced her. "We know from Teyla's contacts that sector of the galaxy is actively being culled right now. At any time, we could step through the gate to Palla and meet up with the Wraith." He stared intently back at her as Elizabeth remained silent. He sighed as, after a long minute, she slowly shook her head. "What?" John asked. Elizabeth stared at him, her perceptive gaze making John fidget in spite of himself. "What?" he repeated.

"I thought I was the cautious one," she replied quietly. "Just last night you threw caution to the wind and celebrated with the Pallans. We all did. And now this? Since when did you become so wary?"

Defensiveness boiled up inside him and John's expression turned slightly hostile in response. "I've never been reckless, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth shook her head and crossed the Deck to stand before him. "This isn't reckless. We take the chance of encountering the Wraith every time we step through the gate." She arched her brows. "But that's usually your line, not mine." Her gaze turned worried as she stared into his eyes. "What's happened to you, John?"

John unconsciously pulled away, his mind searching for a reply, all the while backpedaling from her intuitive question. She was right. Puzzled at his own reaction, he pulled in a deep breath and nodded as he soundly quelled the alarmed voice within him. "You're right." His smile was thin and strained as he tried to lighten the mood. "Guess I'm getting paranoid in my old age."

Elizabeth's expression was dubious, but after a moment, she nodded. "It's a mission then?"

"Yeah," John headed for the door. After a couple steps he turned back and arched an eyebrow at her. "But you owe me one."

Elizabeth flashed him a mock-serious look. "Put it on my tab."

----------------

John paused at the foot of the Gateroom stairs, his gaze fixed on the two scientists who stood ready with his team. Once again, doubt and hesitation whispered to him, but John pushed it away. Both men wore side arms – heck, he'd supervised their basic weapons training – but it did nothing to ease his worry. _Gaul and Abrams had side arms… Bower and Cooper were soldiers…._ John pursed his lips, refusing to give in to the doubt that plagued him. He pulled in a deep breath and crossed the Gateroom. Smiling at the two scientists, he stopped in front of them. "This is a routine trading mission, Doctors. Just a little taste of off-world activities for you." He smiled as the two doctors nodded. Both seemed a bit nervous, so John smiled at them a moment longer.

"Trust me, it's nothing big," Rodney added as he walked up behind John. "So can we please get this over with? Some of us have important things we could be doing!"

John arched a brow at Rodney's irritated gaze. Looking up at the Control room, John tapped his radio call button. "We're ready. Dial it up."

The entire team stepped back as the Stargate hummed to life, each chevron locking in sequentially, before the wormhole flushed into existence. Stepping forward, John led his team through the gate.

Emerging from the wormhole on Palla, John froze. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut as he took in the scene before him.

"Damn," Ford muttered in shock.

John just stared, barely able to breathe. Thick black smoke hung in an ominous haze over the valley, its darkness giving way only to sporadic fires that littered what was once the Pallan village. Large blast holes littered the fields. Even from this distance, he knew Wraith Darts had caused them.

"Oh God," Rodney whispered.

For a moment, John felt rooted in place, unable to move. He swallowed hard, instantly assaulted by uncontrollable memories from M27-194.

"_Bower? What's your situation?"_

"_We were unable to dial out before we were blocked by an incoming wormhole." Bower's tense reply was almost immediately followed by gunfire. "Wraith! Major, we have Wraith coming through the gate."_

John could hear Bower's voice in his head, and he closed his eyes against it. But instead of Bower's voice, he saw his prone, dead form.

"_They got Bower though…." _

John drew in a deep breath, forcing the image away, but like a horrific slide show, the sight of Cooper's dead eyes staring back at him replaced the image of Bower.His mind raced. _Brianor…._

John shook off the thoughts and forced himself to move. He spun and stared at the shimmering wormhole, his hand flying to his radio. "Atlantis, this is Sheppard. The Wraith have attacked Palla."

"Major? What's your situation?" Weir's voice almost immediately replied.

John looked around at his team. "Stand by." He waved emphatically at them. "Get out of the open, now!" he barked as he knelt by the DHD. He pulled his binoculars from one of his vest pockets and scanned the valley as the rest of his team joined him. "McKay," John whispered, knowing the doctor would know what he wanted.

Rodney pulled out his LSD and punched a few buttons. "Sporadic life signs, but I can't tell if they're Wraith or human. No trace of any energy readings, so no Darts in the area… at least as far as I can tell."

John nodded. "Atlantis, it looks like the Wraith have already left. We're going to shut down the gate and redial you so Drs Hastings and Shluter can return. My team and I will search for survivors."

"Copy that, Major," Weir replied.

"Is Bates' team still on standby?" John lowered his binoculars and squinted at the ruined Pallan village.

"Yes."

"Send them through before we shut down the gate." John shoved his binoculars into his vest pocket. "I want them here to secure the gate while we search for survivors."

"Copy that." Even over the radio, Weir's voice was heavy with concern. "Be careful, Major."

"We will. Sheppard out." He watched the gate as Bates and three soldiers abruptly appeared through the wormhole a second before it disengaged. "Sergeant!" John hissed and waved them over to him, before he looked over his shoulder at Rodney. "Dial Atlantis back." He nodded briefly at Bates, whose gaze was fixed on the devastation. "I need you to secure the gate, Sergeant. Two clicks on the radio and you're free to talk, otherwise maintain radio silence until we know exactly what the status is here."

Bates tore his eyes from the remains of the Pallan village and nodded at John. "Yes, sir."

John grabbed his IDC as Rodney finished dialing Atlantis. He quickly typed his personal code then glanced at Hastings and Schluter, as Weir's voice once again came over his radio.

"Major? The shield is down."

"Copy that." John nodded at Hastings and Schluter. "Okay, go." He watched as the two doctors sprang up and ran for the gate, disappearing through the wormhole. "Atlantis, will advise when we know more. Sheppard out." He nodded at Rodney, who deactivated the gate. "With any luck, any Wraith in the area didn't catch the gate activity," John muttered. He raised an eyebrow at Bates. "Okay, Sergeant. Hold down the fort. We'll be back."

John stared again at the valley. Anger boiled within him. Thoughts of Brianor, her child, Malfan, Pertus… the Pallans assaulted his control, but he turned away from them and smothered the worry and anger with cool professionalism. "I'm on point. Teyla, you're right behind me. McKay, watch that LSD for anything moving anywhere near us. Ford, you bring up the rear, and stay sharp." He stood, and raised his P-90. "Move out."

He trotted off, his team right behind as they quickly made their way down the steep hill to the valley floor. As his feet hit flat ground, he slowed the pace to a cautious walk while he scanned back and forth around their position. He pursed his lips, struggling against his anger as he stared at the broken remains of the canopy of trees that had once encompassed the trail. Only a few days ago, he'd walked this path… admired the trees… found solitude in the beauty. The Wraith had destroyed Palla and with it, all shreds of peace he had within him. Stoic, John swallowed hard. As much as he pulled on his professionalism, tried to distance himself from the devastation… tried to be rational, he couldn't get the Pallans off his mind. He couldn't detach himself from Malfan, from Brianor, from her infant… from Pertus. John's grip on his P-90 turned white knuckled; the only outward sign of the massive turmoil within him. With cruel clarity, he remembered his moonlit walk with Brianor, the soft feel of her body against his… her lips meeting his. John took a deep breath and forced himself to concentrate.

It didn't take long for them to find the first casualty. John paused, his lips twitching as he fought to control his anger.

Lying across the pathway were the wilted remains of a Pallan man. Young or old, it was impossible to tell, for the Wraith had fed long on him, and all that remained was a withered shell.

John once again looked down the path and started forward. "Keep moving," he muttered.

It wasn't the last victim they encountered. Numerous casualties greeted them as they continued towards the village. Each time, John's heart would jump, dreading the moment where he would recognize one of his friends, though it was impossible to distinguish one from another. John wasn't sure what was worse: not knowing, or knowing for sure.

"I thought the Wraith took people back to their Hive ships to feed on or preserve for later," Ford whispered as they passed yet another dead Pallan.

"As did I," Teyla responded. "I have never heard of them feeding on so many during a culling."

"Whatever the reason," John hissed, "let's make sure no one needs our help." They walked around yet another victim. John swallowed hard, as his spite for the Wraith redoubled.

They passed the scorched fields, the gaping holes from Dart fire still smoldering. Village houses were either burned to the ground or had been blown apart. But anything that had burned still smoldered.

John stopped in his tracks, an odd-shaped mound just off the road catching his attention. He slowly walked up to it and looked down. He blanched as he stared at the mutilated remains of one of Pertus' sheep. Not far away, several others were in similar condition. Cold fear gripped his heart as he looked around, searching for Pertus, all the while hoping urgently that he wouldn't find the boy. Within him, a voice of desperation pushed him to call out for Pertus, but John resisted… fought back… and barely kept control.

"Pertus," Rodney whispered, his voice cracking.

"I don't see him," John answered quietly. "Come on." He slowly walked down the path his even steps faltering as he ventured close to a smoldering house.

"Major, I'm not reading any life…." Rodney's voice trailed off at the Major's hard gaze.

"I don't care." John kicked at some debris as he waded through the twisted rubble. Abruptly, he stopped, grimacing, as he encountered the burned remains of the house's occupant. He reached down and pulled some rubble over the victim's body, doing his best to cover it. He turned away and stared hard at his team.

"Be burned alive, or die at the hands of the Wraith." Again, Rodney's voice cracked. "What a choice."

"Move on." John abruptly walked past them and continued down the path.

He stopped in his tracks and stared at the smoldering remains of Malfan's house. Memories of the warm, welcoming cottage flooded through him and he clenched his jaw in anger. He glanced at Teyla, his anger momentarily giving way to sympathy as he watched a tear make its way down her stoic face.

Pulling in a shuddering breath, Teyla walked forward, her gaze fixed on the ruins.

John glanced at Rodney, his gaze questioning.

Rodney looked down at the LSD, then back to John. He slowly shook his head.

John fought the knot in his gut and the thoughts of Brianor that refused to be controlled. He slowly walked up behind Teyla, who stood before what once was the front door of Malfan's house. "Teyla?"

Teyla turned and wiped a quick hand across her cheek. "We must make sure there are no survivors that need our help." She briskly walked by him and away from what was left of Malfan's house, and down the path towards the next set of houses.

John glanced at Ford and jerked his head towards Teyla.

Ford nodded and followed her.

John watched them walk away for a moment, and then turned back to the ruins. Something pulled him towards the house… forced him to face the reality he wanted so much to deny. He walked forward, absently kicking at some charred wood. His mind rebelled… refused to believe what he was seeing… desperately clung to what he wanted to be true, when something caught his eye. His gaze narrowed as he squatted and lifted a blackened piece of rubble. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes widened in horror, before sliding shut against the image.

Lying before him was the husk of what was once a Pallan woman. Withered, charred and distorted, there was still no mistaking the features of Brianor… and next to her was what could only be the remains of her infant child.

John's face contorted in horror and he gasped loudly. His breath hissed through his teeth as he struggled to quell his nausea at what he'd seen. Gagging, John coughed violently. He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth before lowering the rubble back over Brianor's remains. "God damn it!" he choked.

"Major?" Rodney walked towards him, only to halt at John's shaking, raised hand.

He forced himself to inhale one shuddering breath, and then another, before he stood and stared out across the desolate fields. His emotions in turmoil, no amount of professionalism could detach him from the feelings that surged through him. Helpless against the horrors of a Culling, the Pallan people had been wiped from existence by the Wraith without a second thought. Anger surged through John, and he felt cold spite grip his heart. He glanced back at the covered body. Brianor had been young… vibrant… full of life, just like Cooper… and, just like Cooper, the Wraith had ended that life in the most horrifying way imaginable.

But beyond that, they'd stolen life from her infant child… a long life the child had been entitled to. John dropped his head. He could still feel the infant's warm body in his arms, the movement... the life. He could still see the child in his mind... feel the surge of protection he'd had for the newborn. John squeezed his eyes shut, surrendering to the stressful twitch that pulled on his mouth, but still fighting the lump in his throat and the way his eyes filled. Defending the innocent had been a large part of his life, but he'd arrived too late… too late to help Brianor and the Pallan people. Once again, he was helpless to do anything.

Unbidden, images of Cooper being fed upon flashed through his mind. He could hear the Corporal's agonized screams, see the pain in his face… feel the helplessness at watching him die. Cooper… Bower… now Brianor… her child… Malfan… Pertus… the Pallans….

His sense of self-control pushed at his emotions, insisting on conquering them. It was an internal struggle that left him motionless for a minute, before his control won over.

Finding the will to move again, John slowly walked back to Rodney, who stared at him questioningly.

Stoic, John gazed hard at the doctor for a moment. "Brianor and her child," he whispered, watching as Rodney noticeably paled.

"Why… why didn't they call us?" Rodney croaked, his gaze locked on the burned cottage.

John struggled to think straight as he tried to find an answer to Rodney's question. "Happened too fast," he muttered. "They… never had a chance."

He started down the path towards a distant Ford and Teyla. After a few steps, he stopped and looked back at a motionless Rodney. "McKay?" He waited until the doctor slowly turned and faced him. "Come on, there might be some survivors."

Rodney nodded once and walked towards him.

John lifted his gun and resumed his course towards the main path.

"Major, I'm reading life forms." Rodney's words stopped John in his tracks.

"Where?" John scanned the area around them.

"Near Ford and Teyla," Rodney muttered. "They could be Pallan survivors…."

"Or Wraith," John finished. He reached up and tapped his radio call button, as he quickly started down the path towards Teyla and Ford, Rodney hot on his heels. "Ford? McKay is picking up life readings near you. Stay sharp and hold your position. We're coming to join you."

"Yes, sir," Ford immediately responded.

John jogged down the path. Adrenaline surged through him, momentarily blanketing all emotion. As he passed around the remains of a cottage, he froze, his P-90 instantly coming to bear. "LOOK OUT!" John's grip tightened on the gun's trigger as he immediately fired on four Wraith.

Hidden from Ford and Teyla's view by the burned rubble of a cottage, the Wraith were in plain sight of John and Rodney as they rounded the corner. John ducked behind some debris as stunner fire hit the ground next to him. He abruptly stood and fired, concentrating his shots on one guard, while Rodney emptied a 9 mm clip into another. Both men ducked behind the wall as stunner fire once more struck around them. John glanced at Rodney, as the doctor reloaded.

Gunfire caught John's attention, and he risked a quick look from around the edge of the rubble.

Alerted by John's shout and the gunfire, Teyla and Ford had strategically repositioned themselves in a place where, between the four of them, they could catch the Wraith in crossfire.

John looked at Rodney and nodded. At once, both stood and fired again on the Wraith, while Teyla and Ford ducked stunner fire. The last guard fell, leaving only the unarmed male, who stood defiantly, hissing at his fallen comrades.

Holding his P-90 close, John risked a glance at Rodney. The doctor ejected his second clip and looked at John questioningly.

Never taking his eyes off the Wraith, John reached down with his free hand, pulled one of his 9-mil clips and handed it to Rodney.

"Thanks," Rodney muttered, before reloading his gun.

John stepped out from behind the rubble, Rodney right beside him, and approached the Wraith. From across the way, Teyla and Ford joined him.

As he passed the downed Wraith guards, John fired a couple shots into their heads for good measure. The Wraith male grabbed for one of the stunners, only to be propelled to the ground by several shots from John's P-90. John held the gun close and glared at the Wraith, daring him to try for the stunner again, until at last, he stood over the Wraith male.

John slowly lifted his hand and tapped the call button on his radio twice.

Bates immediately answered. "Major?"

"Dial Atlantis. We have a live Wraith in custody."

"Yes, sir."

John stared motionless at the Wraith, who returned the cold gaze. After a moment, Weir's voice came over his radio.

"Major, do you have control of the situation?"

"Yes," John bit off his reply. "We have him."

"Copy that," Weir responded. "Bring him back for questioning, Major."

John's gaze narrowed. The Wraith seemed fit, healthy… like he'd just fed. John felt his rage returning. "Elizabeth…." His voice trailed off.

"Bring him back, Major," Weir repeated, her tone commanding.

"Copy that. Have another team ready in the Gateroom. I want extra security when we bring this bastard through."

"Will do, Major, Weir out."

The Wraith's expression was purely spiteful, his breath punctuated by quiet hisses. "What… will you do now, human? I will tell you nothing!"

John glared back. His mind tortured him, played cruel tricks... gave him images he didn't need. John could see the Wraith… this Wraith, feeding on the Pallan people, on Brianor... on her child. "I've half a mind to kill you here and now," he spat.

"Major, but Dr. Weir said…," Ford started, only to be interrupted by the Wraith.

"If you kill me now, human, the others will see to your demise," the Wraith snarled.

Already falling victim to his surging hate, the Wraith's words rocked John and assaulted his self control to the very core of his being. Outwardly, he stared evenly back, but inside, his emotions surged. Unbidden, images of the Wraith Lord came back to him.

"_Kill me now, Human. The others will see to your demise."_

_"No sir!" Cooper pleaded. "Don't tell them anything!"_

"_Cooper!" John watched in horror as the young Corporal turned old… his life drained by the Wraith._

_John watched as life fled from Cooper's eyes. Vacant and dead, Cooper's lifeless eyes stared back…._

Fear… anger… helplessness surged through John. Breathing hard, he was caught in the turmoil of his emotions, powerless to stop the images, the feelings, the torment that rushed through him. He felt Brianor's child warm... safe... protected in his grasp... Brianor enfolded in his strong arms, her breath warm and gentle on his neck, her soft lips caressing his. Cruelly, his images turned violent. He couldn't turn his mind's eye away from seeing the infant dead in the burned out remains of Malfan's cottage, Brianor at the baby's side. He saw Wraith with stunners hunting the Pallan people... then one Wraith, with one stunner.…

_"Tell me anything... and I will spare you."_

John's grip on his P-90 shook. His arms felt heavy as he slowly lowered the weapon, memories of his torture flooding over him. He felt the agony… the torment… the breath stolen from his body. Sweat popped up on his brow as his mind, in some sick sense, forced him to relive his torture again and again….

"Major?"

Ford's voice snapped John from his flashbacks… but the images stuck with him… the emotions plagued him… the feelings drove him. He fixed the Wraith with a cold and malicious glare.

"Sir, what is it?"

Surprise dominated Ford's voice but John ignored the Lieutenant. Wordlessly, he crossed the gap between himself and the Wraith. Stopping, he looked down into the Wraith's eyes as he slowly pulled his sidearm from its holster.

"Major, what are you doing?"

Rodney inched closer, but John ignored him too. His mind a victim of horrifying and uncalled upon memories, images that tore at his sanity... feelings that drowned his control... he took the only path his tortured mind thought was open to him.

With one smooth motion, he lifted his gun and fired four shots into the Wraith's head.

"Sir!" Ford shouted, his outcry too late.

Still silent, John stared down at the dead Wraith as he holstered his gun. Abruptly, he turned and headed for the gate.

"Let's go."

-------------------------

He felt numb, his feet automatically finding the path as he quickly stalked away from his stunned team and headed towards the gate. He pulled in a deep breath, the strong scent of acrid smoke fueling his anger. A small part of him was unbelieving, shocked at what he'd done, but it was lost to a tidal wave of anger, a persistent... inescapable rage.

It was the rage he hated the most... that confounded him the most… that scared him the most. He'd never had rage against anything before... at least not in such a way that he couldn't control it. But here it had been overwhelming. Rage had crashed through his barriers of self-control, and powered his actions. Rage had controlled him... driven him and swept him up in its passionate rush.

John's grip on his P-90 tightened. His execution of the Wraith had been almost automatic. _What else was he going to do?_ he reasoned with himself. _Take the Wraith back to Atlantis?_ He ground his teeth as his pace quickened. Intel would've been helpful, but if Steve had been any indication, the Wraith wouldn't have told them anything. Somewhere within, he felt the conflict of betraying Weir's orders, but he denied it any attention. One Wraith, even restrained or imprisoned, was damn dangerous... lethal in the blink of an eye. The Wraith were unlike anything he'd ever dealt with before. There was no bargaining with them, no compromise... no choices. It was kill or be killed, and part of John appreciated the black and white perspective. Vengeance for the Pallan people… for Brianor and her child. Kill or be killed….

"Major!"

Rodney's voice snapped John from his dark brooding. Not breaking stride, John continued along the path back to the Stargate, his eyes fixed forward... away from the burned out remains of the Pallan village. He resisted the urge to look back, and tried to ignore Rodney, but the doctor wouldn't be deterred. John glanced slightly to his right, as Rodney quickly caught up with him. Ford and Teyla were just behind John, he could feel it, but he once again looked forward, his pace still quick.

"Major!"

John tensed, his expression turning dangerous as Rodney insistently grabbed John's arm, forcing him to stop.

"What the hell was that?" Rodney's loud voice was a cross between anger and shock as his eyes searched John's expression.

"Not now, McKay." John's voice was low and dangerous.

"Major...," Rodney persisted.

"I SAID NOT NOW!" John roared as he forcefully pulled his arm from Rodney's grip. Seething, he advanced on Rodney. His emotions in turmoil, his gaze was spiteful as he stopped, his face scant inches from Rodney's. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he was mildly surprised as the doctor stared evenly back, refusing to back down. Not sure how to get a handle on his own surging emotions, the last thing he wanted to do was talk to anyone about it, especially in a potentially dangerous situation. "McKay, stifle it," he hissed through clenched teeth. "This is not the time or the place for your prattling."

"Fine," Rodney snapped. He glared hard at John. "I'm sure Weir will have a few things to say about this."

"We all will," Teyla interjected quietly.

John's fierce gaze switched to the Athosian woman, some of his anger dissolving at the guarded concern in her expression. He glanced at Ford, who was staring at John in plain shock. "Ford, take our six. Let's get the hell out of here."

Ford swallowed and nodded. "Yes, sir."

Giving one more cold look to Rodney, John took point and led the group back up the steep path to the Stargate.

John emerged from the trees, and nodded at Bates as the Sergeant and his team relaxed and lowered their weapons. He stalked to the DHD, and tried to ignore the confusion on Bates' face, but the Sergeant wouldn't be deterred.

"Sir? The Wraith?"

John slapped the center crystal on the DHD and walked away from the Ancient mechanism. He glared at Rodney, daring the doctor to say anything, but Rodney only silently stared back, his expression anything but cowed. "Dead," John tersely replied. He pulled out his GDO and entered his own code.

"Yes, sir. What about Pallan survivors?"

John shoved his GDO back into his vest pocket. "There are none," he snapped.

"With all due respect, sir, you've only been to the village. They could've…."

John's seething glare cut Bates off mid-sentence. "There are NONE!" John's voice cracked in the end. He looked back to the gate.

"Yes…, sir."

John ignored the Sergeant's confused tone and focused his gaze on the gate, impatiently waiting for confirmation to return to Atlantis.

--------------------------------------------

Elizabeth stared down from the control room as the Stargate activated. Apprehension cramped her gut. Ever since John had tersely radioed back that Palla had been attacked by the Wraith, concern for him and his team had shadowed her every move. Now the knowledge that they were bringing a live Wraith back to Atlantis made her uneasy, to say the least. Elizabeth looked back expectantly at the personnel in the control room.

"Receiving Major Sheppard's IDC," Peter Grodin responded. He reached for the DHD, pausing as Elizabeth raised her hand.

"Hold on, Peter." She turned back to the gate. Ever since the Genii had hijacked an Athosian GDO, just receiving the IDC wasn't good enough for her, especially given the situation John and his team were in. She tapped her headset. "Major? What's your status?"

"Atlantis, this is Sheppard. There's nothing else we can do here. We're coming through. Lower the shield."

Elizabeth stared at Grodin, her gaze narrowing. Even over the radio, John's voice was harsh, almost antagonistic. She nodded once, okaying Peter to lower the shield. She turned back and stared at the gate, as the shield disappeared. "The way is open, Major."

"Copy that. Sheppard out."

Elizabeth pursed her lips and turned, heading for the staircase. She stopped at the top of the stairs and watched as John and his team emerged from the wormhole, before the gate shut down behind them. Elizabeth's eyes scanned the group, her brow furrowing in confusion as she noticed the absence of their Wraith prisoner. She skipped down the stairs, two at a time. "Major!" She quickly crossed the gate room and stopped in front of John. It was a fight for her to keep the shock from her face as she gazed at his haggard and dark expression. Her eyes flicked across the equally somber faces of the Major's team before once more fixing on John's face. "The Pallans?" She didn't think it was possible for his gaze to be any darker, but he swiftly proved her wrong.

"There's no one left alive." His low and intense voice was barely above a whisper, but the rage and frustration it held shouted at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed, before once more opening them and staring at John, her face full of compassion. Over the past few weeks, she'd seen a connection grow between the unorthodox Major and the Pallan people, and John's involvement with Brianor only strengthened that bond. In the short time she had spent on Palla, even she had felt a strong connection to them. Elizabeth fought tears as she thought of Brianor and the infant she'd held so dearly in her arms. She searched John's gaze. The Pallan destruction was horrifying enough to her, but she couldn't imagine the effect on John. Unconsciously, her gaze drifted to Teyla, and the compassion within Elizabeth deepened.

The Athosian woman's eyes were glassy with suppressed tears, her face a stoic mask of barely maintained control.

"Teyla..." Elizabeth's voice trailed off at Teyla's raised hand.

"I will be fine, Dr. Weir," Teyla responded quietly.

Elizabeth pursed her lips and nodded once. She looked around the room before returning her gaze to John. "Where's your prisoner?" She fought the urge to recoil as spite abruptly blanketed his features. "John?"

"He's dead," he snapped.

Elizabeth's eyes widened slightly. "We need to talk about this."

John shook his head emphatically, anger intensifying on his expression. "Not now."

"John..." Elizabeth stepped back as rage flooded his expression.

"NOT NOW!" He brushed past her and practically jumped down the stairs before breezing out of the gate room, leaving the rest of his team and Elizabeth in his wake.

She watched him leave, her gaze lingering on the doorway he disappeared through. Shocked by his behavior, she turned and stared at the equally stunned faces of John's team. Her gaze drifted to Ford. "Lieutenant? What happened?"

Ford's gaze lingered on the empty doorway for a moment longer, before he looked at her. He swallowed hard and fidgeted slightly. "Ma'am, the Major... well he...," Ford shook his head and sighed.

"He shot the Wraith," Rodney supplied, as he anxiously shifted weight from one foot to another.

Elizabeth's gaze narrowed. "I'm assuming you don't mean in self defense?"

"No, ma'am," Ford answered quietly. The Lieutenant's fidgeting disappeared as he stared hard at her. "The Major executed the Wraith in cold blood."

Shock numbed Elizabeth. Her jaw dropped as she stared in disbelief at Ford. She knew the Major had nothing but contempt for the Wraith, they all did, but what he had done shocked her to the core. "Executed?" Her voice was disbelieving.

"He didn't have to kill it," Rodney interjected quietly, "but that didn't seem to matter to him." Rodney's voice held it's own note of bitterness, which, Elizabeth had come to know, more often than not hid his concern.

"Dr. Weir," Teyla's voice was thick with emotion. "The Major may be incorrect. We only went to the village. There could be survivors that fled into the foothills to avoid the culling. We must go back."

Elizabeth stared long and hard at Teyla. Her expression was imploring, but Elizabeth knew her well enough to know Teyla would never insist on something unless she truly believed it. It wasn't emotional desperation that was speaking, it was experience, and Elizabeth bowed to it. She looked at Bates. "Get some teams together to return to Palla. I want to know for sure there's no one left. I want a briefing in 30 minutes and I want the teams ready by then." Elizabeth looked back to Teyla, who nodded slightly, as Bates strode away, barking orders in his radio.

------------------------------

John's long strides took him quickly down the halls of Atlantis. He bypassed the armory deliberately... the feel of a P-90 bouncing against his chest wasn't something he was ready to relinquish. The memories of Palla... Brianor... her child... they were too fresh in his head. Rage surged through him on a level he had never experienced. Somewhere deep inside of him, he was scared by it, but the rage smothered him... encompassed him in its heated embrace, and he was overwhelmed by it.

He kept walking, not knowing where he was going or what to do. He felt a nagging urge to do something… anything. What, he didn't know, but the persistent feeling begged him. He wanted to hit something, scream at something... kill something. John rounded a corner and stopped, his angered hazel eyes fixing on a transporter. He glanced around, deftly avoiding eye contact with any Atlantis personnel. He looked back to the transporter. He needed to be alone... to get away... to find his control. He stalked to the transporter and entered. Staring at the map, he punched the furthest location available, looking back as the doors slid shut. He felt a slight tingling as the transporter activated, and a moment later, the doors opened, revealing a dark and quiet hallway. He stepped out and looked around. On the fringes of the West Pier, he had only been here once before, during recon. Part of him hesitated, but his surging anger won over. Growling, he quickly stalked down the long hallway.

"_The first of the crops will be harvested in a few weeks, John. You and your people may return then for some of your share."_

_Teyla smiled. "I will return when the harvest is ready. I expect your home will have a new addition."_

No matter how swiftly his strides carried him down the long, dark corridor, John couldn't escape the image of Brianor… or her child, and the feel of both in his arms. He groaned and broke into a fast run as Fred invaded his thoughts. He heard Cooper scream as the Wraith fed on him… saw the delight in Fred's eyes….

His mind tortured him as his stride lengthened. Brianor. Young… vibrant…. Was that what she saw? Felt? In the last moments of her life, did she die staring into the eyes of a Wraith? Felt it suck the life from her? Watched the life being stolen from her child? Hope that John would arrive to save them?

John's breath came in ragged gasps as he forced his burning legs to keep running. No matter what he did, it never was good enough. The Wraith always found a way around it… a way to kill more innocents… destroy more worlds.

Wheezing, John staggered to a stop, unable to run any further. It wasn't good enough… he wasn't good enough… and the Pallans… Brianor, died for it. Guilt surged through him, overwhelming him as a cloud of darkness fell over his soul. A lump constricted his throat, and his eyes burned as he fell to his knees. His hands braced against his thighs, John's vision blurred. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt hot tears escape his clenched eyes.

_Brianor… Malfan… the Pallans… Gaul… Sumner… Bower…._

_Cooper…._

_Pertus…._

Where was the innocent boy now? Dead? On a Hive ship awaiting a horrifying end?

Silence descended over the deserted hallway, with only John's ragged breaths breaking it. When would it ever be enough? How many more people would he watch die at the hands of the Wraith? How many more would he be too late to save?

He ran the back of his hand over his eyes, before roughly scrubbing his face with both hands. He pulled in a deep, shuddering breath and slowly stood. He jumped as his radio crackled at him.

"Major Sheppard, please respond."

John arched a brow at Elizabeth's concerned tone. He silently stared down at the radio, not yet ready to trust his voice.

"Major… John, please answer me."

John pursed his lips at her plea, but his dark mood quickly took over again. Reaching up, he switched off the radio. In the back of his mind, John he what he was doing was wrong, but he was in no mood to listen to that whisper of reason. He just couldn't be around anyone right now… couldn't be near anyone, talk to anyone… stare at their sympathetic gazes.

Once again, he set off at a brisk run down the dark hallway, still not sure where he was going. He was running away, even though there was no escape. John knew it, but he really didn't care. He paused as he reached the end of the hallway. He stared at a tall, closed door for a moment, before reaching out and tapping the door crystal.

The door instantly opened, and a strong, ocean breeze blew across his face. He pulled in a deep, cleansing breath through his nose and slowly walked out into the sunshine. He crossed to the railing and stopped, his gaze fixed on the distant control tower. His thoughts drifted to the expedition team… his friends… the people he was sworn to protect. He'd never wanted military command on Atlantis but, faced with Sumner's death, he'd had no choice. But ever since he'd taken command, John had taken the responsibility of protecting all of them squarely onto his shoulders. Yet, when faced with Cooper's death, John had been forced to stand by, powerless… helpless to do anything to save the young Corporal. Could anyone have saved Cooper? The rational side of John knew probably not, but it did nothing to ease his guilt…or quell his frustration over it. He'd sworn to protect the team, yet Cooper was dead. He'd promised that he would look out for his people, yet Bower had been killed. He'd vowed to protect the innocent, from the very beginning of his career, yet Brianor, her child, the Pallans… they were all dead.

Guilt shrouded him in its icy clutches, leaving John powerless to do anything but stand there and stare at the city.

--------------------

Elizabeth sighed. "Where is he?" She stared at the sensor readings, her eyes scanning over the dozens of life indicators, showing various Atlantis personnel scattered around the inner city. "This is like a needle in a haystack, " she commented quietly. "Any one of those could be Major Sheppard."

"Dr. Weir!"

Elizabeth turned, her gaze questioning as Dr. Fusanaki crossed the control room, an anxious expression on her face.

"What is it, Doctor?" Elizabeth nodded slightly at the Japanese woman.

"Sergeant Bates indicated you were looking for Major Sheppard?"

Elizabeth's gaze widened. "Yes. Do you know where he is?"

Dr. Fusanaki shrugged. "Not now, but not long ago I saw him in the east corridor. He seemed very upset. The last I saw of him, he entered a transporter."

Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you, Doctor." Elizabeth looked at Rodney. "Where could he have transported to?"

"Ma'am," Ford interjected, "the Major was pretty upset. Maybe he was just trying to get away?"

Elizabeth glanced at the Lieutenant, before looking back at the doctor. "Rodney?"

Nodding, Rodney turned and punched a couple buttons on one of the Ancient consoles. "It's a long shot, but I'm widening the range of the sensors. If we pick up anyone outside the designated safe zones, it's probably him." He looked up at Dr. Zelenka, who sat next to a nearby laptop. "Try it now."

Zelenka typed a couple commands onto the laptop, and looked up as the sensor display abruptly widened to show the whole city.

"Bingo," Rodney whispered.

The concentration of life signs within the safe zones was heavy, but no one paid attention to that. All of them stared at the one, lone, blinking life sign on the outer reaches of the West Pier.

"That has to be him," Rodney pointed. "The West Pier is out of bounds to anyone except teams authorized in advance. No one should be there."

Elizabeth's sigh was a cross between worry and irritation. She looked at Ford. "Since he's not answering his radio, Lieutenant, take Teyla and go bring him back. When you do, bring him to my office. After that, I want you to team up with Stackhouse and Collins to go back to Palla." Her expression stern, Elizabeth turned and stalked out of the Control room.

---------------------------

"Which way now, McKay?" Ford asked over his radio as he stepped out of the transporter. The Lieutenant looked both ways down the long corridor, searching for any sign of Sheppard.

Rodney's voice instantly answered. "Go left down the hallway. It's quite a long ways, but at the end, you'll see a door. The Major is on the other side of it."

"Copy that." Ford flipped on the light on his P-90 and started down the long corridor. He glanced at a silent Teyla. "You're pretty quiet," Ford ventured.

"I am worried about Major Sheppard. This behavior is not like him," Teyla answered quietly.

"Yeah," Ford agreed. "Something isn't right."

Teyla paused and fixed Ford with a penetrating gaze. "He has not been right since we brought him back, but what he did today…" her voice trailed off and Teyla shook her head slowly before again looking back to Ford, "was very disquieting."

Ford nodded in agreement as he scanned the hallway with his light. "I never thought the Major would crack. He's one of the strongest soldiers I've ever met."

"He went through a horrible experience, Aiden," Teyla reasoned. "And we do not even know all of it. Even someone as strong as the Major cannot help but be affected by such a thing."

Ford nodded as they continued down the hallway. "I just hope he's gonna be okay." He glanced at Teyla, as she smiled slightly.

"It will be difficult, but I believe the Major will persevere," she said confidently.

Ford smiled slightly, reassured by her tone of voice.

They continued silently down the hallway until, at last, they reached the end of the corridor. Ford tapped the door crystal, watching as the doors parted. He sighed quietly and nodded as he stared at the unmoving back of Major Sheppard. After a moment of silence, he glanced at Teyla then cleared his throat pointedly, before returning his gaze to John. "Major?"

John's back straightened, before he slowly turned and looked at them.

Ford's eyes widened as he stared at John's hollow expression. A faint and humorless half smile crossed the Major's face.

"Should've known McKay would find me," John said quietly.

"Yes, sir," Ford answered. "Dr. Weir sent us to bring you back."

John was motionless for a moment, before he arched an eyebrow and nodded slowly. "Yeah, kind of thought she would when I turned off my radio." Slowly, he walked between them and started down the corridor, his stride flat, almost lifeless.

Ford shot a worried expression at Teyla, who returned one of her own, before they both followed John back down the hallway.

-------------------------------------

Elizabeth looked up, her expression stern as John walked into her office. She glanced past him and flashed a grim smile at Ford and Teyla. "Thank you, Lieutenant, that will be all." Her smile fading, Elizabeth looked back at John. "Close the door then take a seat." She sat, her hands folded in composure, as John did her bidding and slowly sat down opposite her. He unclipped his P-90 and set it on her desk, before staring evenly back at her.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow expectantly, but said nothing.

Finally, John looked away and shrugged. "Look, I know what you're going to say, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken off like that… or turned off my radio."

"You're right," Elizabeth's voice was quiet, but strong, "you shouldn't have. But that's not the only thing we need to discuss." Her gaze hardened as she stared firmly back at him. "Tell me what happened on the Pallan home world, because I distinctly remember ordering you to bring the Wraith prisoner back for questioning."

Fierceness sparked in John's hazel eyes, and Elizabeth had to fight to keep surprise from her face.

"I… had… no… choice…." John bit off every word spitefully.

Elizabeth's gaze narrowed as she refused to back down from his hard demeanor. "That's not what Ford said. He said you executed the Wraith in cold blood… and against my orders."

John pushed back from her desk and abruptly stood. He unconsciously grabbed his P-90 and held it close to his side as he paced across the room before stopping and staring at her again. "There was no way in hell I was bringing that bastard back here."

Now it was Elizabeth's turn to get angry. She stood and stared sternly at him, her voice rising slightly. "I ordered you to bring him back here! What were you thinking?" As soon as she said it, Elizabeth regretted her words as, quicker than she could react, John's expression turned tragic. She saw pain fill his eyes, the instant before he turned away.

She stared at his rigid back, confusion sweeping away her anger. "John, what's wrong?" She shook her head as his shoulders heaved with his intake of a deep breath.

"Elizabeth, I couldn't… bring him back here." John shook his head and started pacing her office. "Don't you get it?" His voice rose in agitation, "We show them mercy and they go on killing, wiping out civilizations… torturing innocent people." His voice rose to a near shout. "I can't go on giving them leniency!"

"John!" Baffled at his irrational behavior, Elizabeth stepped around her desk and grabbed his arm. She took an involuntary step back as John violently shrugged out of her grasp. "John, you can't do things like this, I don't care what the reason is. Not just because you violated my order, but because it isn't right!"

From across the room, John whirled and fixed her with a cold stare. "Isn't right?" he shouted. "Tell that to Sumner! What about Abrams? Gaul? Bower? Cooper?" John's head fell forward as he shook it violently. "God, Elizabeth! They wiped out the entire Pallan civilization! What about Brianor and her son? Malfan? Pertus? Tell them that killing that son of a bitch wasn't right!

Over her anger, Elizabeth felt compassion at the pained expression on John's face. "John, we don't know all the Pallans are dead. Malfan and Pertus could still be alive. Bates and Ford are arranging teams to return to Palla and search for survivors. There's still some hope." Elizabeth tried to reason with him, but John was beyond reasoning.

John stared intently at her. "Bates and Ford?" He headed for the door. "I need to be there…."

"No." Elizabeth's voice stopped John in his tracks. "John, you're in no condition to go anywhere."

"It's my job," John spat.

Elizabeth kept her stare even against his spiteful one. "Not now, it's not, Major." She steeled herself and plunged forward with the words that needed to be said. "You're an emotional liability right now, John. I won't let you go."

"Liability?" John's voice cracked in anger. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You executed a Wraith in cold blood and against my orders! Tell me that wasn't uncontrollable hatred!"

John savagely pushed one of the chairs out of his way. "Damn it, Elizabeth! I'm through being nice to these bastards! They destroy whole worlds and we just sit by and watch! I'm through with it! You didn't stand there and watch them torture Cooper to death, helpless to…" John's clenched teeth bit off his unfinished phrase. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, regaining some composure.

"John," Elizabeth softened her voice, "you can't carry this anger around with you forever. It'll destroy you." She sighed. Fervently, she'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, but Elizabeth realized, as the leader of this expedition, and John's friend, she no longer had a choice. "I want you to talk to Dr. Heightmeyer."

John's eyes snapped open, ferocity returning to his gaze. "No."

"Major," Elizabeth's tone was warning.

"I'm not talking to some damn shrink!" John shouted, anger, disbelief and spite all coloring his tone. "I've had men die under my command before! I can handle it!"

Elizabeth shook her head at his stubbornness. She pulled herself up straight and as tall as she could. "That wasn't a request, Major." Her voice took on a commanding tone.

John's gaze narrowed. "Don't do this, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Major, I am ordering you to see Dr. Heightmeyer."

"God damn it!"

Elizabeth never saw his outburst coming, nor did she have any time to react. Shocked, she could only watch as John grabbed an Athosian vase from her bookcase and hurled it across the room.

She flinched as the vase shattered against the wall and pieces of clay flew everywhere. Stunned, she looked back at him, unable to keep a touch of fear from her expression. As soon as Sheppard met her gaze, she saw his face soften at the alarm he saw in her eyes.

"Elizabeth, I…." His voice was quiet, regret filling it.

Elizabeth forced an even tone to her voice. "Major you are relieved of duty until Dr. Heightmeyer says otherwise." She put on her best commanding expression and stared hard at John.

Motionless, John gazed at her, fear and regret mixing with the anger in his eyes. Without a word, he nodded, turned and left her office.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and let out a long breath. She opened them again, rounded her desk and stared down at the shattered remains of her vase.

"Elizabeth?"

Unable to keep the slight shake from her hands, she shoved them into her coat pockets before turning and looking into the concerned eyes of McKay. Swallowing hard to find her voice, Elizabeth crossed the room and sat down behind her desk. "Rodney, can you find me something to clean that up, please?" she whispered. Turning to her laptop, Elizabeth stared at the mission reports, but concentration eluded her as her mind lingered on John.

---------------------------------

Rodney stared at Elizabeth for a moment, before his eyes once again fixed on the scattered remains of the Athosian vase. He'd heard the crash, seen Sheppard's face when the Major had left Elizabeth's office, even heard the more heated parts of their exchange. "Sheppard?" he asked quietly. His eyes widened at Weir's grim expression.

"Major Sheppard is relieved of duty until further notice."

Rodney's jaw dropped. "Elizabeth, the Major…"

"My decision is final, Rodney," Elizabeth soundly cut him off. She glanced pointedly at the shattered vase. "The Major needs help, and I'm going to make sure he gets it."

Rodney nodded once, silently, turned and walked out of her office. Just outside the door he paused, his mind racing even more than usual. He'd seen the look on Sheppard's face. In the months he'd worked with Sheppard, Rodney had learned a lot about the Major, and one thing he did know was that Major Sheppard could be stubborn – even more so than Rodney, which surprised him a little. Outwardly, the easy going Major didn't seem the type, but when he got his teeth into something….

Rodney's unfocused gaze narrowed. Sheppard was being stubborn, and sometimes it really took a stubborn person to know one. Just the fact that Elizabeth had to relieve him of duty to make him see Heightmeyer was proof enough. Irritation flared in Rodney. This was crap. Atlantis needed Sheppard now more than ever. They didn't have time for him to be pig headed and obstinate. It was high time someone told him to get his head out of his ass. Rodney looked around. "Where's Major Sheppard?"

"He headed for the back stairs, McKay," Peter Grodin answered, as he pointed to the corner stairwell.

Rodney inhaled deeply and crossed the control room to the stairs. As he started down the first flight, he tapped the call button on his headset. "Phil, this is Rodney McKay." Rodney rolled his eyes impatiently as he waited. As many times as they'd tried to get Phil to wear a headset, the stubborn SGC janitor refused. Rodney could see it now: Phil was digging through his pockets to find his radio….

"This is Phil, Dr. McKay." Phil's patient voice finally answered Rodney's call.

Already irritated at Sheppard, Rodney's patience was thin. "Phil, when are you ever going to wear the headset Dr. Weir gave you?" McKay snapped at the janitor.

"Gets in my way," Phil replied matter-of-factly.

"Whatever," Rodney sighed loudly. "Got a dustpan handy? Weir's got a mess in her office."

"For Dr. Weir? Of course," Phil answered lightly.

Rodney's gaze narrowed. "What do you mean by that? You're only doing this for her? You wouldn't do it for… oh, let's say… me?"

"Yep, that's what I'm sayin' Dr. McKay." Even over the radio, Phil's voice held a note of amusement.

"Fine," Rodney snapped. "Just get up there."

Unfazed, Phil replied immediately. "Will do."

"McKay out." Rodney tapped his headset again. Irritated, he dashed down the final flight of stairs and quickly strode down the hallway, weaving in and out of Atlantis personnel. His mind mulled over where to find Sheppard. A smug smile flashed across his irritated face as the obvious answer came to him. Sheppard had still been in full gear and armed from the mission to Palla. His first stop, logically, should be the armory. Rodney's smug smile faded. Of course, with Sheppard's ways, the armory could be the second, fourth or last stop the Major made. Rodney's irritation redoubled. God, how he hated it when irrational people messed with the logical order of things….

Rodney rounded a sharp right hand corner and paused, his gaze narrowing as he caught sight of Major Sheppard approaching the armory doors. Any smug satisfaction Rodney might have had was smothered by his redoubled irritation at Sheppard. "Major!" Rodney started towards Sheppard.

Rodney's gaze narrowed as the Major gave Rodney a cold stare before entering the armory.

"Major, we need to…," Rodney's voice trailed off as the armory doors closed right in front of him. Angered, Rodney sighed loudly. As a member of the senior staff, McKay was one of the few non-military personnel on Atlantis who had an access code for the armory, and he quickly took full advantage of that. He looked up as the doors parted and quickly strode in. He glanced around, glad to see that, beside himself, Sheppard was the only one there. Allowing his irritation to flow freely through him, he crossed his arms and stared at Sheppard's back as the Major quickly stowed his P-90 on a rack with several others.

--------------------------------

"What the hell was that?"

Rodney's grating voice did nothing to ease John's frustration. He stiffened, refusing to turn around and give the doctor any attention, but paused in unzipping his vest. "I don't know what you're talking about, McKay." A moment of silence followed his statement, and John resumed stowing his gear.

"Oh really? So that little display in Weir's office was your pathetic attempt at Athosian art? Sorry, Major, but you don't have the knack."

John clenched his teeth at Rodney's typical sarcasm. Angered, he spun around, and stared coldly at him. "Leave it alone, McKay." John toned his voice low and dangerous but, by McKay's expression and firmly crossed arms, he could tell the doctor had a full head of steam himself.

"Or what?" Rodney's brows arched rebelliously. "You'll throw something at me? Be careful, Major, I wouldn't want you to break one of your pretty guns!"

John savagely unzipped his vest and threw it into the corner, before looking back at Rodney and pointing emphatically at the doctor. "You have no idea what's going on, so butt out!"

Rodney lifted his jaw defiantly. "No idea? I know more about what's going on than you think, Major. Care to hear my thoughts on it?"

John glared at Rodney. "I don't give a damn what you think you know, McKay." Reaching the end of his already short patience, John's expression turned dangerous. "I'm only going to say this one more time. Leave it alone."

Rodney slowly shook his head, refusing to back down. "Or what? You know, wallowing in self-pity is so not you. So, how long are you going to keep it up?"

John's anger redoubled as Rodney touched a nerve in him. His gaze narrowed. "I am not wallowing in self pity!" He turned away, and grabbed two clips for his sidearm.

"Like hell you're not!" Rodney shouted. "Look at you! You stand there, beating yourself up because you didn't do more to save the Pallans, when you and I both know there was nothing we could've done to make a difference!"

Rodney stepped closer to John. "And then there's loosing Corporal Cooper. Newsflash, Major! Cooper was a soldier! He knew the risks! What were you going to do? Betray all of us? Tell the Wraith where Earth is and how to find it? Give them the key to the Milky Way Galaxy? You did what you had to do, Major! Beating yourself up won't change that!"

John whirled around, fixing Rodney with a seething look. "What the hell do you know about it? You're no damn soldier! You weren't there! You didn't look into Cooper's eyes as the Wraith tortured him! You didn't listen to his screams as they sucked the life out of him! You…" John's voice faltered. He at once turned away, fighting to keep his surging emotions under control. "You weren't his CO," he whispered, not trusting his voice to any more than that. He pursed his lips and pulled in a shuddering breath, his eyes fixed on the floor as he struggled to compose himself. He heard Rodney sigh loudly.

"No, you're right. I wasn't there! But I am here…. We're all still here because you didn't tell the Wraith anything. So while you bury yourself in guilt, consider that too."

Something in Rodney's words grated on John. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, his rational side knew Rodney was right, but the rest of him would have nothing to do with it. He spun back, rage darkening his eyes as he quickly closed the distance between himself and Rodney. "I am not buried in guilt, Rodney," he repeated. His quiet and seething tone forced Rodney back a step, but the doctor wouldn't relent.

"Oh please! Look at yourself! Weir had to relieve you of duty, for god sake! You're hiding behind your guilt so you don't have to face the fact that you were helpless to do anything to help Cooper or the Pallans!" Rodney took a step forward, pointing emphatically at John. "You were helpless and you… can't… stand it!"

Rodney had read John right. So right, that John couldn't control the surge of emotions that swept over him. He wasn't sure what happened, but one moment he was seeing red, and the next his hand was stinging and he was staring down at Rodney. John's breath came fast as his anger instantly dissolved. "Rodney?"

Rodney pushed himself up on one elbow and rubbed his chin gingerly. For once, the sarcastic doctor was at a loss for words. His gaze wary, he looked up at John.

John swallowed hard. "Rodney, I…." His brow furrowed as he struggled to find the right words. Coming up empty, he walked away. Had he looked back, he would've seen a stunned Rodney watching his retreat.

-----------------------

"What happened?" As she walked into the infirmary, Elizabeth momentarily pondered just how often she'd been forced to ask that question lately. Seated on a nearby bed, Rodney glanced at her while Carson gently prodded his jaw.

"He hit me!" Rodney's voice was slurred as he tried to talk around Carson's exam.

Elizabeth stopped next to the bed, her gaze narrowing. "Who hit you?"

"Major Sheppard!" Rodney's slurred voice was indignant.

"John?" Elizabeth couldn't believe what she was hearing. She arched an eyebrow at Rodney's annoyed stare.

"That's the only Major Sheppard I know!" Rodney shot back.

"All right, that's it," Carson stepped back and pointed at Rodney. "Pipe down and let me finish looking at your jaw, or I'll sedate you."

Rodney's attention switched to the Scottish doctor. "You wouldn't."

Carson's gaze narrowed. "Try me."

Cowed, Rodney remained silent as Carson finished examining his jaw.

Carson stepped back and sighed. "Well, you're going to have a doosie of a bruise, but I don't think anything is broken. I would like to do some X-rays to be sure though."

"No way!" Rodney protested. "Do you know how much radiation you're going to expose me to? Expose my head to?"

"Yes, Rodney," Carson sighed. "That's why they're called x-rays."

"Well I don't…."

"Rodney!" Elizabeth interrupted. "Just get the x-rays then report to my office. In the meantime, did you see where Major Sheppard went?"

"No!" Rodney rubbed his jaw. "I was too busy studying the ceiling of the armory to notice!"

"You know, Rodney, there is a sure way to avoid having your jaw x-rayed," Carson interjected.

Rodney switched his attention to Beckett. "What?"

Beckett smiled. "Next time, duck."

Rodney sighed and rolled his eyes, before smiling sarcastically. "Oh, that's very funny."

"Dr. Weir?" The hail over Elizabeth's headset demanded her attention. She raised her hand to it and walked away from Rodney. "This is Weir, what is it, Peter?"

"We've received a communiqué from Halling on the Mainland requesting to talk to you. It sounds urgent."

Elizabeth furrowed her brows for a moment before she replied, "I'll be right there, Peter." She walked back to Rodney's bed. "I have to go. Come up to my office when you're done here."

Carson stared for a moment at her. "Is everything all right?"

Elizabeth pursed her lips for a moment. "Halling called from the Mainland, something is going on. I don't know what yet."

Carson nodded. "If ye need me, call. I'll be done with Rodney in a few minutes."

"As soon as Carson is through irradiating me, I'll join you." His gaze a cross between annoyed and wary, Rodney glanced at Beckett, who just smiled back in a tolerant way.

"Fine, Rodney," Elizabeth shook her head in mild amusement, the apprehension of Halling's call never really leaving her as she turned and walked from the infirmary.


	5. Book II Chapter III

He was stunned.

John breezed down one of the many long corridors as his mind groped for answers, all the while rejecting the reality of the situation. He'd hit McKay. Sure, McKay got on his nerves, but being irritated and physically attacking someone were two entirely different things. His throbbing hand drove home the reality of what had happened: had the pain not been there, part of him wouldn't have accepted the reality of what he'd done.

He exhaled loudly, anger simmering within. It had been a constant companion, his anger, since he'd returned, but it was something he'd harnessed, controlled and buried deep within… until today. Perplexed, John's brows furrowed. Irrational and uncontrollable rage had never been an issue with him. Killing the Wraith in cold blood disturbed him enough, but slugging McKay? Where the hell did that come from?

John paused, mid-stride, his gaze drawn to a doorway on his left. Mid-level on the Control Tower, the large observation room at one time seemed to have been a conference room. One of John's favorite indoor places on Atlantis, it had large, panoramic windows with a stunning view of the city and the ocean beyond. It had been one of the first places John had ventured to, after arriving in Atlantis, and where he, Weir, McKay and Sumner had realized the city was under the ocean. A small smile pulled at one corner of John's mouth as he walked to the large, double doors and tapped the access crystal.

The doors instantly parted, and John walked into the dim, spacious room. Mildly surprised, he arched an eyebrow at the reddish hue of the setting sunlight and the long shadows it cast. He hadn't realized it was so late in the day. Shrugging, he slowly crossed the room, his soft footsteps echoing off the high ceiling. No one else seemed to be around, and for that John was grateful. The peace and solitude were exactly what he needed.

_What he needed_.

Irritation welled in John. It seemed everyone, these days thought they knew what he needed, even Elizabeth. _Dr. Heightmeyer indeed!_ John snorted. He'd been in the military long enough to have his run-ins with head shrinks. SOP dictated every soldier talk to one when returning from any combat situation. With all the combat missions he'd flown, John had his fill of psychiatrists during his tour in Afghanistan. He knew the routine.

_You saw your friends shot down by an RPG. How does that make you feel?_

_How do you think it makes me feel? Mad as hell, but they're dead and I can't change that. Are we done now? Because I have things to do._

John halted in front of one of the large windows and stared out over the ocean, momentarily admiring the faint orange glow leftover from the nearly set sun. He felt the last beams of the day's sunlight warm his face as he pondered his situation.

He'd lost men under his command before. Each time he mourned and went on. He never dwelled on it… never lost his head… never acted irrationally.

This time was different. He'd watched Cooper's torture and slow, painful death. But the end result had been the same. A man under his command had died, and John refused to see it any differently than the deaths that came before Cooper. John sighed. It really hadn't been that long since his rescue.

And then there were the Pallans… and Brianor. How the hell was he supposed to feel? A society of people unlike anything he'd ever encountered, wiped out by the Wraith without a second thought! A woman… extraordinary and sensuous, like Brianor, suffering a violent death… along with her infant child. John ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Damn it! He had every reason to have been a little off recently!

Irritation returned. So why the hell was everyone overreacting? Why couldn't they just give him a little time? A little space? Instead, McKay was going off about guilt, Weir was reliving him of duty and sending him to the local head shrink, and every time John saw Beckett, the Doctor hovered, watching John's every move like some Highland mother hen.

Exasperated, John sighed loudly and shoved his fists deep in his pockets. Relieving him of duty was way out of line….

The sound of soft footsteps interrupted his thoughts, and grabbed his attention. He twisted his upper body and looked behind him, instantly relaxing as an unexpected visitor walked up behind him.

"Major."

Despite his mood, John smiled at the smooth, relaxed voice of Phil.

The former SGC janitor, now in charge of day-to-day maintenance on Atlantis, smiled and pulled a rag from his hip pocket. He wiped a smudge only he could see from the window before staring knowingly at John. "Just got through cleaning up quite a little mess in Weir's office, so I thought I'd come down here and make sure one of those scientists hadn't put fingerprints on my windows."

John arched an eyebrow at the spotless windows, but let Phil's comment go. He sighed. "Sorry about that, Phil."

Phil shook the rag a couple times before stuffing it back into his hip pocket. "About what?"

His expression guilty, John looked at the janitor. "The mess in Weir's office."

"Oh that." Phil smiled. "No problem. Next time, though, you might want to try a punching bag. It'll probably fare better than those Athosian knick knacks."

Despite his mood, John chuckled. "Will do." He returned his gaze out the window, watching as the sun finally slipped below the horizon. He glanced at Phil, who also patiently watched the sunset.

"I never get tired of that," Phil said quietly. "Makes the whole trip here worth it."

Once again, John smiled. The sage old janitor had a way of putting John at ease… boiling the complicated world down into a simple sunset. It never ceased to amaze him. Silence again descended between the two men as John watched the sky begin to darken into night.

"If you don't mind me saying, Major, something seems to be troubling you." Phil finally broke the silence, his simple statement grabbing John's attention.

John looked at Phil for a long moment, before once more silently returning his attention to the view. His emotions boiled, and John really wasn't sure if talking was what he needed right now. He met Phil's probing statement with guarded silence.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Phil also return his gaze to the view. Silence again hung over the two men.

"Phil?" John ventured, his voice slightly irritated. "Am I keeping you from your work?"

A slow knowing smile spread across Phil's face. "I told you, I'm checking my windows for fingerprints. They're big windows. It takes a while."

John sighed loudly in resignation, but wasn't surprised that Phil didn't heed the hint and leave. Once again, it was silent as John stared at the ocean, his active mind trying to sort the knot that had become his life. He furrowed his brows, so wrapped in his thoughts that he didn't see Phil's searching gaze pass over him.

"Nasty creatures, the Wraith."

Phil's quiet comment startled John. He stiffened at the mention of the Wraith, but said nothing.

"Suck your life from you without a second thought. I can't imagine what that'd be like."

"It's hell, Phil," John snapped coldly. "That's what it is."

Unfazed, Phil nodded. "I'd imagine so." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Witnessing something like that is bound to affect a man. Don't see how it wouldn't."

John glared at Phil. Deep down, he knew his anger was misdirected, but he couldn't help himself from being mad and defensive. "Is there a point to this conversation, Phil?" John's voice was angered and cold. "If there is, get to it. If not…." His voice trailed off.

Phil met John's defensive glare evenly. He shrugged. "I don't know. Is there a point? You tell me." Phil stepped around John and wiped his rag over the window before coming back and standing next to John.

Silence again descended over them as John pursed his lips, his anger ebbing and his emotional turmoil once more rekindling. He pulled in a deep breath. "I couldn't do anything… you know… to save Cooper. I just…." John shook his head and looked down at the floor.

Phil nodded slightly. "I know that, and so does everyone here. We've all accepted that if you could've done anything to save the Corporal, you would've. So, the question is, why haven't you accepted it?"

John sighed loudly. "It's not that simple, Phil. I can't… I should've done more, should've done…" John waved his hands emphatically, "something!"

"So, you don't like being helpless. Who does?" Phil answered quietly, his eyes scanning over Sheppard's outstretched hands.

His anger resurfacing, John's mind raced as his breathing quickened. All the little nudges by Phil finally snapped his control. "Damn that McKay," he muttered out of the blue, his hands dropping heavily to his sides.

Phil arched his brows. "What does he have to do with this?"

John pursed his lips, his fists unconsciously clenching, memories of his recent confrontation with McKay crashing through his control. "He said the same damn thing! He told me I couldn't stand being helpless!" John gritted his teeth and exhaled sharply.

"So?" Unfazed by the upset Major, Phil stared back. "So?" he repeated. "What happened?"

"I hit him!" Sheppard turned away, running a hand through his short hair. His voice turned quiet, almost unbelieving. "I decked McKay."

Phil smiled and shook his head. "'Bout time."

John blinked hard and slowly turned around. His racing mind ground to a halt as he tried to make sense of the janitor's unexpected comment. With two words, Phil had managed to defuse John's anger. "What?" He stared incredulously at Phil.

"Dr. McKay. It's about time someone decked him." Phil again pulled the rag out of his pocket and wiped the glass in front of him. "There are some people, Major, that just need to be hit every once in a while. Dr. McKay is one of them."

John arched his brows. "I thought you were nicer than that, Phil."

Phil chuckled. "Oh, McKay's decent enough, most of the time… but pushes his boundaries **all** the time." Phil's gaze turned distant, his hand pausing mid stroke on the glass. "First time I saw him, he was arguing with Colonel Carter at the SGC. Thought she was going to lay him out then." He pursed his lips. "Kind of surprised she didn't." He shrugged and walked across the large room, pausing occasionally to wipe his rag across the various water displays.

Watching Phil silently, John's churning emotions began to settle. There was something about the easygoing janitor that was refreshing, and John relished the long lost feeling of reassurance. Minutes passed, and John said nothing, but neither did Phil. The janitor worked his way around the spacious room, before once again joining John in front of the large window.

Phil glanced at John and smiled slightly, before looking up as the first stars flickered in the early night sky.

"He was right." John's voice was quiet, but the large echoing room picked it up anyway. "McKay was right." He watched as Phil nodded slightly before turning and staring evenly at John.

"I know that, Major." Phil smiled. "Just glad you know it too."

John sighed, watching as the stars' brightness increased. "What now?" he muttered rhetorically. He arched an eyebrow and looked out the corner of his eye at Phil.

Phil shrugged. "Accept it, Major. Accept that what happened wasn't your fault and go on."

"Easier said than done, Phil," John replied quietly.

"Yeah, it is," Phil agreed.

After a moment, John took a deep breath and let it out noisily. He turned away and crossed the room. Pausing at the doorway, John looked back to Phil, who was still admiring the view. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Phil turned, his smile barely visible in the darkening room. "For what? I was just here cleaning my windows." Once again, Phil pulled out his ever-present rag and wiped it absently over the large window. "Oh, and Major? You may want to get your hand looked at. It's swelling pretty good."

John watched him for a moment before a small smile crossed his face. Silently, he turned and exited the room.

-------------------------------------

Elizabeth nodded to Peter Grodin as she walked up the last few steps and into the control room. She watched as he tapped a few panels on the Ancient console before looking back up at her expectantly. "Halling?" Elizabeth asked, over the Ancient communication system. "What can I do for you?"

"Dr. Weir," Halling's deep voice immediately replied. "One of our hunting groups has wandered off. We cannot find them, and they are overdue to return. Normally, I would not be so concerned, but this group is mostly adolescents – barely more than boys. The leader, Kelin, is an experienced hunter so this is very unusual. I am concerned that something is wrong. Our last search party has just returned for the night and has found no trace of them."

Weir nodded. "We can…" her voice trailed off as the Stargate suddenly lit up, each chevron locking into place as someone dialed in. She glanced at Peter. "Raise the shield. Halling?" Elizabeth looked up expectantly, as if she could see the Athosian man's voice in thin air. "Stand by, we have an incoming wormhole." Once again, Elizabeth looked at Peter who nodded.

"Reading Lieutenant Ford's IDC."

Elizabeth nodded and tapped her radio headset. "Lieutenant? What's your status?" 

"Ma'am!" Ford's voice was strained and barely audible over gunfire. "We've encountered heavy Wraith resistance. Recommend a security team in the gate room!"

Elizabeth glanced at Peter. "Lower the shield." She made brief eye contact with one of the command deck SOs and nodded. The SO brusquely nodded back and ran across the command deck.

Elizabeth turned and looked down at the active Stargate as soldiers ran in from multiple directions. "Are Stackhouse and Bates' teams with you?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Ford responded. 

"The Gate room is secure, Lieutenant and the shield is down. Come through." Elizabeth's gaze fixed on the wormhole as her off-world team members started filtering through the gate. Movement at the staircase caught her eye, and Elizabeth felt the apprehension in her gut intensify as John ran down the stairs, two at a time, before stopping shoulder to shoulder with two SOs. Sidearm aimed at the wormhole, John's gaze was fixed on the gate.

Elizabeth looked back to the Stargate as Ford and Stackhouse burst through at a dead run.

"Raise the shield!" Ford shouted, his voice echoing through the gate room and over the radio.

Elizabeth whirled around. "Peter!"

Peter slapped the console, and Elizabeth heard the hum of the gate shield as she turned back around. For a moment, the gate shimmered before deactivating.

Elizabeth stared down as the soldiers in the gate room relaxed their stances.

"Dr. Weir?"

Halling's voice prompted Elizabeth and she nodded at Peter who activated the Ancient communication system.

"Halling, I'm sorry. We had a bit of a situation."

"Is everything all right?" Halling's voice was concerned.

Elizabeth smiled. "Now, yes. As for your missing hunters, we'll send a team and a Jumper as soon as it's light."

"Thank you, Dr. Weir."

Halling's voice held a note of gratitude, and Elizabeth smiled in response. "You're welcome. Weir out." She looked back towards the stairs as Teyla, Ford and Sheppard entered the room.

"Dr. Weir? Was that Halling I heard?" Teyla's voice was questioning.

"Yes. One of the hunting parties is missing. It's a small group, a couple of adolescents and a hunter named Kelin. Halling has asked for some help searching for them."

A flicker of concern showed through Teyla's impassive expression. "Kelin would not be late to return unless something was wrong."

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Halling thought the same. I'd like you to go with the team."

Teyla nodded slowly. "Yes, of course. I should be there."

"I'll fly them," John ventured quietly. He had come up the stairs behind the other three members of his team.

Elizabeth's gaze fixed on him. Slowly, she shook her head. "No, Major. You won't." Unmoving, she held her ground as his expression darkened. 

John looked from Teyla to Ford before turning back to Elizabeth. He glared deeply at her. "Fine."

Holding John's gaze a moment longer, Elizabeth spoke to Ford. "Tell me about Palla." Dread swept through her as she watched Ford and Teyla exchange hesitant glances. She sighed. "That bad?"

"Ma'am," Ford responded quietly, "the Wraith were everywhere. We couldn't really search as well as we wanted to. We were too busy trying to avoid the Wraith. But if there are that many still there…." Ford's voice trailed off.

"Then there's no one left." John quietly finished Ford's thought.

Ford nodded slightly. "We can't go back yet anyway. It's too hot right now, ma'am. We barely got away this time."

Elizabeth nodded. "We can try back in a week or so." 

"You won't find anyone," John disagreed. "But I could've told you that… oh wait, I did."

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at the Major's icy expression. She glanced at Ford and Teyla. Both were looking at John, Ford's expression confused, and Teyla's pensive. "Thank you, Lieutenant… Teyla," Elizabeth said quietly. She nodded at both of them as they slowly walked away.

She looked at John. "John…," her voice trailed off as John's gaze went past her to something over her shoulder. His expression turned slightly pained and definitely uncomfortable. Elizabeth looked back, her gaze fixing on Rodney, who stood rock still at the top of the control room stairs.

Elizabeth looked back and forth between the two men for a moment, but she might as well not have been there for all the attention either one was giving her. She looked at John, watching as he swallowed hard and glanced at her. He slowly blinked, allowing his eyes to momentarily remain closed, before he opened them and looked away, his gaze leaving both her and Rodney.

Without a word, John turned and walked away.

Part of Elizabeth wanted to go after him, but she resisted. She'd said all she could to him. There was nothing else she could do now. He had to find his way, and while she'd be there for him, she couldn't make him do anything. He had to want to. She continued watching his retreat, as Rodney came up next to her.

"What did he have to say?"

Rodney's voice was slightly more defensive than usual and Elizabeth shook her head in response. "Not much." She glanced at the darkening bruise on his cheek. "You okay?" 

Rodney reached up and touched his bruised cheek, wincing slightly. "Nothing serious, at least not from the bruise. Who knows what the X-ray did to my head."

Elizabeth smiled slightly but said nothing.

"And him?"

Elizabeth sighed. She didn't need Rodney to tell her who 'him' was. "I don't know Rodney. I really don't."

----------------------------------

The night sky deepened to an almost blackness, only the light of the stars penetrating it, as John stood rooted before the window in his quarters. Phil's words turned over in John's head, the turmoil within him driving away any thoughts of sleep. Again and again, his mind played back over the recent events of his life. Each time, his emotions… his reactions left him more and more confused. He closed his eyes in pain, trying to shield himself from the memories of Palla. Malfan's laughter clung to him. Pertus' innocence haunted him… and his body ached to touch Brianor again, to hold her soft body, feel the caress of her gentle lips, to hear her light laughter. He even ached to hold her child again. All was denied to him, and the very knowledge that none of it would ever come to him again added scope to his frustration, and fueled his anger.

Irrationally, John focused his anger on Weir… on Heightmeyer… on McKay. He was exposed. His anger, his… vulnerability obvious to all of them. A wave of insecurity swept over him, and only angered him more. Insecurity was not something he was accustomed to, nor did he relish its effect. Talk to Heightmeyer, like hell!

His anger knew no bounds. He felt himself physically shaking as he struggled to control it, to harness his frustration, but it was a daunting task… as it had been since all of this had started. John's mind raced. Palla, Brianor, Malfan, Pertus, Bower, Cooper, Abrams, Gaul, Sumner…. He felt the weight of the dead on the shoulders of his spirit, and its crippling effect left him aching.

One of the planet's moons rose, crossed the sky and set somewhere behind him, yet John still stood there, trying to make sense of where he was… to bring stability to his spirit… quell his anger. But tranquility eluded him. Vaguely, he became aware of stiffness in his legs and tiredness in his muscles. Slowly he turned, limping slightly as he forced his long-motionless legs to move. Lying down on his bed, he didn't even bother to remove his shoes or even his jacket. He casually threw one arm over his forehead as he stared with a numb gaze at the ceiling, willing himself to relax.

But when the dawn's first rays streamed in through his window, he was awake to see them.

-----------------------------------

Teyla quietly took her seat behind Stackhouse as Markham stepped around her and sat down in the Jumper pilot's seat. Her gaze narrowed slightly at the tension in his back, and the air of apprehension that surrounded him. Teyla glanced at Stackhouse, whose gaze was slightly amused. Apparently, she was not the only one to notice Markham's mood.

"Lighten up, Markham," Stackhouse's voice held a note of entertainment. "It's only a trip to the Mainland, not a dogfight."

"Easy for you to say," the young sergeant muttered. "I still don't really have a feel for this technology."

"Markham," Stackhouse responded, "you flew this thing all the way to the Lagrangian Point Satellite and back. The only one who's flown Jumpers more than you is the Major…." His voice trailed off as the two soldiers exchanged somber looks.

"You will do fine," Teyla quickly reassured. 

Stackhouse unclipped his P-90 and set it on the floor next to his chair. "Fly to the Mainland, find the Athosian hunters, fly back. Piece of cake." Before Markham could respond, Stackhouse tapped the Jumper radio and spoke into his headset. "Flight, this is Stackhouse. We're ready to go." 

"You're cleared to depart, Sergeant," Grodin immediately responded.

"Copy that." Stackhouse glanced at Markham and nodded. "We'll contact you when we reach the Mainland. Jumper One out."

Teyla watched the Jumper bay recede out of view as Markham steered them directly up towards the exterior door.

The flight to the Mainland was uneventful. Before long, Teyla found herself stepping out of the Jumper and into the warm sunshine. She walked only a few feet before she spotted Halling walking briskly towards her. Teyla nodded and smiled grimly. "Halling. Any news?"

Halling touched foreheads with Teyla before stepping back and shaking his head. "No. I am… concerned."

"Which way did they head when they left here?" Stackhouse glanced around before looking at Halling expectantly.

"North," Halling pointed. "They were to head north for one day then come back. That was four days ago."

Stackhouse nodded. "Okay. We'll start there. We'll find them. We should be able to cover quite a wide area with the Jumper."

Following Stackhouse's lead, Teyla squeezed Halling's arm reassuringly. "Do not worry. We will bring them back." Giving Halling one last small smile, she turned and followed the rest of the team back into the Jumper.

Teyla stood behind Stackhouse's seat and looked out the window of the Jumper as Markham eased the Ancient vehicle into the air. Almost immediately, the technical readout from the life signs detector popped up in front of them.

"Reading anything?" Stackhouse squinted at the screen.

"Oh yeah," Markham arched an eyebrow as he directed the Jumper northward. "Everything that's crawling, walking or slithering down there is showing up." He glanced at Stackhouse dubiously. "It's a big continent, Stackhouse. The life signs detector is going to pick up everything moving within range. How are we going to tell what blips are the hunting party?"

Stackhouse sighed and thought for a moment. "Fly as low as you can. Maybe they'll see us… or we'll see them…."

Teyla stared hard at the dense vegetation before she glanced at Markham. His expression was as doubtful as hers as they both looked at Stackhouse.

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Stackhouse shook his head. "I'm open to suggestions."

-----------------------------------

"No sign of them?" Elizabeth paced behind her desk. She glanced up, meeting eyes with Stackhouse.

"Not that we can tell, ma'am," Stackhouse responded.

"The life signs detector just isn't specific enough to distinguish between human life signs and other animals. Combine that with the dense vegetation…." Markham's voice trailed off.

Elizabeth sighed and nodded. "Needle in a haystack?"

"A very large haystack," Stackhouse muttered.

"And Teyla?"

Stackhouse shrugged. "She stayed at the settlement for the night. Markham and I will pick her up in the morning."

Elizabeth turned and looked out her office window at the Stargate. Her arms crossed, she drummed her fingers on her biceps as her mind wandered over the problem. After a moment, she reached up and tapped the call button on her headset. "Rodney? Can you come to my office for a minute?"

"On my way," Rodney instantly responded.

Elizabeth turned back towards the door, watching as Rodney crossed the control room and stopped in her doorway.

"What's going on?"

"Come in, Rodney," Elizabeth waved him in.

Rodney stepped around the two soldiers and stopped adjacent to them and next to Elizabeth's desk. "Markham, Stackhouse. No sign of the lost hunting party?"

"That's why I asked you in here, Rodney," Elizabeth responded, recapturing the doctor's attention. "I need your opinion on something." 

Looking rather smug, Rodney crossed his arms. "Of course you do."

Elizabeth blinked, but ignored his remark. "Rodney, is there anyway to make the Jumper life signs detectors more accurate? We need to be able to distinguish human life signs from others."

"Hmm." Rodney started pacing, only stopping to glare at Markham, who just happened to be in the doctor's path.

Markham stepped back and flashed an irritated look at Rodney, who ignored it.

"Maybe," Rodney finally responded. "Since we discovered the internal sensors, which can distinguish different life signs, we've learned a lot about the differences in the two technologies. I think I may be able to adapt the Jumper. But I'd need to be there to constantly monitor the system… and we could overload and destroy the Jumper's power source entirely."

Elizabeth's gaze narrowed. "Destroy it? Why?"

"Well, the power requirements for those kinds of precise readings are enormous. Probably why the Jumpers weren't equipped with that kind of life signs detector in the first place… and probably why the hand held ones are the same. It's why we've had to confine the city system to only scanning the gate room and not constantly monitoring the city. If we had a Zed PM…." 

"Rodney, I get it." Elizabeth interrupted him. "So, you could overload the Jumper's power supply in the process?"

Rodney nodded. "And fry the whole system."

"Great," Stackhouse muttered.

"I'm relatively sure I'd be able to shut down the system before that happened, if I was there to monitor it," Rodney responded, with a cold stare.

Stackhouse stared evenly back. "Relatively?"

"Nothing is certain, Sergeant!" Rodney snapped.

Elizabeth watched the Sergeant shrug, before he looked at her expectantly. Her eyes drifted to Markham, and finally settled on Rodney, both of whom wore similar expressions as Stackhouse. She pursed her lips briefly. "Okay, do it."

"Doing it." Rodney stepped past the two soldiers and walked out the door.

Not a step behind him, Stackhouse needled Rodney. "Searching for lost Athosians. Didn't think you had it in you, McKay."

"Trust me, I don't," Rodney shot back. "If I thought any of you had a snowball's chance in hell of maintaining this system without me, I wouldn't be going. I do have other things to be doing!"

Elizabeth shook her head and rubbed the bridge of her nose as the two men's voices faded from her hearing. She glanced up, her eyes fixing on the empty chair that sat opposite of her desk. In her mind she could see John sitting there, spouting off flippant remarks, arguing his opinion, or just offering her his support. Wishing he were there now, Elizabeth sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she'd just have to get used to it.

------------------------------------

The gray dawn barely illuminated the sky as Teyla looked up, watching as Jumper One gently landed in the clearing. In the gloom, she watched as four figures made their way to her. Teyla's gaze narrowed. "Dr. McKay?"

"Yeah, yeah," McKay waved absently. "Trust me, I wouldn't be here at this godforsaken early hour if you didn't need me to maintain the enhanced power systems."

Teyla turned a questioning look at Stackhouse. "Enhanced power… systems?"

Stackhouse held up his hand. "Come on, we'll explain it to you as we go. Let's find those hunters."

---------------------------------

_This is crap. _John paced behind the plush, white couch, shaking his head in frustration. He glanced at Heightmeyer, who stared back, watching him intently. He sighed. "What?"

Heightmeyer gave him a small, knowing smile. "Why don't you sit down, Major?"

John stopped in his tracks, his gaze narrowing. He smiled cynically. "That's okay." Open hostility colored his voice but, to his surprise, the doctor just continued looking at him.

"You'd be more comfortable."

Again, John sighed, taking no pains to hide his frustration. "This is a waste of time, Doctor, I'm fine."

Heightmeyer leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. "Dr. Weir doesn't seem to think so."

"Yeah, well, she's overreacting," John snapped. He resumed pacing behind the couch.

"She's not the type."

Heightmeyer's quiet voice of reason did nothing to soothe John's emotions. He glared at her, but said nothing. The silence that followed should've been a relief, but John was all the more annoyed at it. He could feel the doctor watching him, measuring him up… trying to decide how best to "handle" him. Finally, unable to ignore her, John again glared at her.

The psychologist leaned forward, crossed her arms over her legs, and stared at him. "You seem very angry, John."

He quirked an eyebrow at her casual use of his first name. "I have every reason to be, **Kate**," he spat. He pursed his lips as she smiled again.

"Good. I'm glad we're on a first name basis. That's a start." She gestured at the sofa. "Please."

John stared at her coldly for a long moment. He really didn't feel like cooperating, but Elizabeth's words hung with him.

_Major you are relieved of duty until Dr. Heightmeyer says otherwise…._

Slowly, John walked around the end of the couch and sat down heavily. He slapped his hands on his thighs and stared squarely back at her.

Heightmeyer leaned back in her chair and folded her hands neatly on her lap. "That's much better, John."

He smiled coldly. "I suppose now you're going to ask me to tell you what I'm feeling?"

Kate arched her brows. "Not really." Her gaze narrowed. "You look tired, John. Are you having trouble sleeping?"

John glared at her, irritated at her observation. "If I said no, would you believe me?" he snapped.

Kate's expression took on a slightly challenging look as she stared evenly back at him. "No." She inhaled deeply. "You mentioned a 'Wraith Lord' in your report. Who was he?"

Off-guard, John clenched his jaw, fighting the surge of emotions that always seemed to accompany those memories. He'd put it out of his mind… tried not to think about what had happened… about Fred… Cooper….

"John?"

Snapped from his thoughts, John's nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath. His jaw clenched tightly, he was unable to keep a twitch from pulling at his cheek. She was watching him, studying him, looked for anything she could use against him….

Kate leaned forward again, her expression concerned. "Open up and let it out," she whispered.

John pulled in a shuddering breath. "He was the Wraith that tortured Cooper." His voice barely above a whisper, he shut his eyes against the image of Fred feeding on Cooper, but it stuck with him… consumed him. He could hear Fred's hisses, see Cooper's pain, hear the Corporal's agonized screams….

His breath caught. John could feel the stunner… the torture… his agony….

John jumped and blinked hard as he felt Heightmeyer's touch on his knee.

"It's okay. John? You're okay."

John pulled in a deep, shuddering breath, suddenly aware of the light sheen of sweat on his brow. "I don't want to talk about him," John fought to keep the tremor from his voice.

Kate nodded and pulled her hand away from his knee. "Tell me about Cooper then. Did you know him well?"

"He was a damn good soldier," John muttered, trying to stay on a safe topic. "Strong, cool headed…."

Kate nodded. "Even when you were captured?"

Anger surged through John as he shot to his feet. "Damn it! Why can't you just leave that alone?" he shouted, as he once again started pacing. He glared at Kate's unfazed expression as she watched him.

"Because you can't just bury these feelings and pretend everything is okay. You have to face them and deal with them. Then you can go on with your life. But not until then."

"You know?" John shot back, his voice a near shout. "After Mitch and Dex were shot down _right in front of me_ I had to see a head shrink like you! He looked at me, asked me how their deaths made me feel, and then certified me for active duty! Let me save you time, Doctor. I'm mad as hell that Cooper died! Just like I was when Mitch and Dex died! But there isn't a damn thing I can do about it now except just go on with my life! So, stop pestering me, certify me for duty and save us both the trouble!" His chest heaving, John stared at Kate's expressionless face.

"Were their deaths quick?"

John narrowed his eyes at her soft question. "I don't…." 

"Just answer the question, John," Kate interrupted. "Mitch and Dex, were their deaths quick and painless?"

"They were shot down by an RPG! They didn't even know what hit them!"

"So," Kate reasoned quietly, "while you were helpless to stop what happened, they died quickly, and probably painlessly as well. What about Cooper?" Her gaze narrowed. "Was that different?"

John stared at her, incredulously. "What the hell kind of question is that? He was tortured! Had his life slowly sucked from his body until nothing was left! He couldn't fight back! I couldn't…." John's voice trailed off as he abruptly turned away from her.

"You couldn't help him," Kate quietly supplied. "Why was Cooper tortured, John?"

John stared at the wall, not trusting his voice to answer.

"_Tell me what I want to know… and I'll spare your companion." The Wraith tilted his head, a chilling smile parting his lips. "Resist me… and you will watch him die."_

"To get to me," John whispered. "The Wraith used Cooper to try to get to me."

"So, your choice was to resist and watch the Corporal die, or to break and tell them everything about Atlantis." She sighed. "That's a no-win situation, John."

"Tell that to Cooper," John shot back, his voice returning.

"Do you think he knew that?"

John turned and faced her. "What?"

Kate's gaze was intent. "Do you think Cooper knew the stakes? That the survival of Atlantis – and even Earth – was on the line?"

John bowed his head and looked away.

_Don't tell them anything, sir…._

"He knew." John slowly looked again at her.

"What do you think that means?" Kate asked.

John's gaze narrowed. "What do I think that…?" Frustrated, he ran a hand quickly through his hair, before pointing emphatically at her. "It means that Cooper suffered and died, and I let it happen! That's what it means!"

"John…," Kate started, only to be cut off by him.

"This is pointless!" he shouted as he stalked to the door, "I'm done with this." Punching the door controls, he stalked out of Kate's suite. He heard her call after him, but he paid her no heed.

-----------------------------------

"McKay, how are we supposed to tell the difference between the sensor echoes and any real human life signs?" Stackhouse turned in his chair and glared at Rodney. "This is almost worse than before! At least then, we knew the readings actually were life forms!" 

"I'm doing the best that I can!" Rodney shot back at the Sergeant with a definitive glare. "The Jumper's systems just aren't designed for this!" Rodney pulled down yet another access panel and started manipulating the circuits. "Hold on a sec…." He abruptly jumped back as the panel sparked. "Damn it!"

Teyla jumped up and quickly walked to him. She grabbed his arm lightly. "Are you all right, Dr. McKay?"

Rodney squinted at the opened panel. "Fine." He reached out and lightly tapped it a few times, testing for current, before he once more grabbed the circuits. After a minute, he looked over at Stackhouse, and the life signs display. "How's that?" Rodney smiled at the display. "Ah!" his voice was triumphant.

"Okay, I'm assuming we should be seeing nothing?" Stackhouse's response was unimpressed.

"Obviously, there aren't any human signs in the area!" Rodney grabbed one of several laptops and punched some keys. "It's doing what it's supposed to be doing."

"Hmm…." Stackhouse's reply was less than confident.

Rodney sighed loudly. "You think you can do better, Sergeant, you're welcome to come back here and try! Just let me off so when you blow yourself up, you don't take me with y…." Rodney's voice trailed off as three blips suddenly appeared on the Jumper display.

Teyla left Rodney's side and walked closer to the virtual display. "Is that them?" She glanced back at the doctor, who was busy punching keys on his laptop. After a moment, Rodney smiled smugly. "Human, for sure."

"Markham, set a course for them," Stackhouse immediately ordered. The Sergeant looked over his shoulder at Teyla. "Do you know any of these hunters?"

Teyla nodded. "Yes, leader is Kelin. He is an experienced hunter, which puzzles me as to why they were missing. I do not know the others well."

"What the hell?" Rodney's quiet exclamation grabbed all of their attentions.

"McKay?" Stackhouse asked, his expression turning wary. "What have you got?" 

"An energy reading. Its…," Rodney's face scrunched in confusion, "gone…."

"McKay?" Stackhouse prompted again.

Rodney waved absently in the Sergeant's direction. "Shut up for a minute." He furiously tapped keys on the laptop.

"Wait… hey!" Markham protested as the Jumper's display changed. "I needed that!"

"McKay, what the hell are you doing?" Stackhouse demanded.

Teyla arched a silent eyebrow at the Sergeant, whose voice had taken on a decidedly irritated note.

"Oh, relax!" Rodney snapped. "I have the coordinates for the kids' location stored in memory. Just give me a second!"

"Meanwhile, I'll just fly blind," Markham muttered in disgust.

"McKay. Explanation. Now!" At the end of his patience, Stackhouse turned and glared at the doctor.

"Dr. McKay," Teyla reasoned quietly. "I need not remind you that the safety of the hunting party is why we are here…."

"Yes, yes, but while I was at it, I thought I'd save Atlantis in the process!" Rodney shot back, his statement effectively silencing the team.

After a long moment, a stunned Stackhouse recovered enough to talk. "You want to run that by me again?"

"I'm picking up a sporadic energy reading from a network of caves, not far from here. Pretty close to our missing hunters, actually. Judging by the signature, it's Ancient for sure." Rodney looked up, his smile one of pure glee. "The Ancients may have had an outpost on the Mainland."

Teyla was shocked. She stared at Rodney for a moment, her eyes wide in surprise, before she turned her attention to Stackhouse, whose expression matched hers.

"Ho-ly cow." Stackhouse squinted. "At the very least, we've flown over most of the Mainland. Why didn't we detect this before?" 

"Would you at least TRY to listen to me?" Rodney snapped, "I said the readings were sporadic."

Stackhouse's expression took on a dangerous element. "Meaning?"

"Meaning it was shielded from sensors, probably to keep it hidden from the Wraith. The shield is likely damaged, maybe from the recent storm, or some sort of natural disturbance."

Regaining some of her poise, Teyla inhaled deeply. "Dr. McKay… the hunters."

"Oh fine!" Rodney rolled his eyes and punched several keys on his laptop. He looked up as the display abruptly changed back to showing the location of the three hunters.

"Finally," Markham grumbled. He eased the controls to the right and followed the path to the hunters. After a minute, he sighed loudly. "Uhh… problem here."

"What's wrong?" Stackhouse glanced over at the young soldier.

"The vegetation is pretty dense. I may not have a spot to land." Markham hovered the Jumper over the area where the hunters were located.

Stackhouse looked down. "What about there?" He pointed to a small clearing a short distance from where they were hovering.

Markham raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You've got to be kidding me. That's tiny!"

"The next closest clearing is three miles," Rodney grumbled. "Sergeant, you really need to land here."

"McKay," Stackhouse turned and looked at the doctor. "If the Ancients had an outpost here, why isn't there any place to land?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "There probably was, ten thousand years ago!"

Teyla looked over Stackhouse's shoulder at the small clearing. "Can you do it, Sergeant?"

Markham sighed loudly. "Do I have a choice?" Slowly, he eased the Jumper down towards the small clearing.

Teyla felt the familiar vibrations as the drive pods retracted, and arched an eyebrow as tree branches scraped both sides of the Jumper.

"Yeah, I know," Markham responded to the unvoiced concerns. "I told you it was a tight fit."

"Sergeant, might I point out I have an irrational fear of crashing?" Rodney answered.

"You insisted we land here," Markaham responded in a distracted tone. He smiled as the Jumper gently settled to the ground, before he reached over and opened the back hatch.

"Piece of cake!" Stackhouse stood and slapped Markham on the shoulder.

"Yeah, right." Markham glared briefly at the Sergeant.

Clipping her P-90 to her vest, Teyla followed behind Stackhouse as they all exited the jumper. Dominated by the ship, the space offered no more than a foot clearance between the end of the ramp and the tree line.

"Great," Rodney muttered as he dodged a branch and stepped off the ramp. "Nice landing, Markham."

Markham glared at Rodney. "Next time I'll plant your butt in the tallest tree I can find, McKay." 

"McKay," Stackhouse cut off Rodney before he could respond. "The hunters?"

Shooting one last glare at Markham, Rodney pulled out his LSD. He turned and pointed into the trees. "That way. Both the hunters and our energy reading are in that direction."

Stackhouse nodded. "Okay, I'm on point. Markham, take our six. Let's go."

Teyla followed behind Rodney as they slowly made their way through the thick vegetation. Before long, Rodney grunted and tapped Stackhouse on the shoulder.

"They're close." As if on cue, the vegetation thinned, revealing a sheer rock wall, with a narrow, crumbling opening.

"Huh," McKay grunted. "In there." He pointed towards the opening. "That should be the hunters."

Mid-stride, Stackhouse paused and looked back at Rodney warily. "Should be?"

Rodney glared at the Sergeant. "Hand held life signs detector!" He waved the Ancient device emphatically. "In case you were sleeping through that part of the conversation, the hand held devices can't distinguish between different life signs. I'm working on the assumption that the same three, clustered life signs we determined were the hunters in the Jumper are the same ones we're trailing now!"

"Great," Stackhouse muttered. "I'd hate to walk in there and come nose to nose with a bear."

Teyla cocked her head in curiosity. "A… bear?"

"Big, bad nasty and mostly foul tempered animal…." Stackhouse shrugged. "Never mind." 

"Ahh," Teyla nodded. She stepped around Stackhouse and stopped right in front of the cave entrance. "Kelin?" she called, her voice echoing in the darkness. "It is Teyla Emmagan!"

"Or we could just do that." Stackhouse smiled and nodded at Teyla, who returned the gesture. They both looked back at the cave entrance as scraping and rustling against the rocks could be heard.

"That better not be a bear," Markham commented as he walked up next to Teyla, his P-90 aimed at the cave.

"Sergeant, we're in another galaxy! The odds of the same animal life forms being here…." Rodney's voice trailed off as the scraping grew louder. "I'll uhh… just stay back here and take some readings," he finished quietly.

Teyla smiled to herself as she heard the doctor draw and cock his side arm. She glanced at Stackhouse as he lifted his P-90, his gaze focused on the cave. She did the same as the scraping noises got closer. She pulled in a relieved breath as a young Athosian teenage boy abruptly appeared out of the darkness. He stopped in his tracks, eyes widening at the drawn guns. "It is all right," Teyla lowered her weapon as the others did the same. "We were looking for you." Teyla squinted at the youth as she tried to place him. "You are… Rentel?"

The youth nodded vigorously before bowing his head at her. "Teyla Emmagan."

Teyla smiled reassuringly. "Yes. Where is Kelin?"

Rentel turned and waved them to follow. "He is inside with Sorbus. He is hurt." Rentel hurried along the dark tunnel, chattering at Teyla and the following party as he went. "That is why we never returned. When Kelin was injured, we did not know what to do. Kelin has taught us never to wander into the forests on our own, and we could not leave him as he is."

Teyla nodded as she followed behind him. "You did the right thing, Rentel. All will be fine now." She looked around as the tunnel widened into a large cavern, and then looked down as the rock under her feet turned to heavily silted flooring of some kind. She felt as if she was in a cave, but instead of rock surrounding her, the walls were lined with some sort of tiling, and Ancient consoles were scattered throughout the cavern.

"Oh, yeah." Rodney looked around and made a beeline for the nearest console.

Ignoring all that was around her, Teyla headed straight for an unconscious man lying not far away. She glanced briefly at the sandy haired youth that sat next to Kelin and smiled, recognizing him. "Sorbus?"

The teenage boy nodded at her. "Teyla."

Teyla knelt next to Kelin, her keen eyes fixing on a large, discolored bump on his forehead. "Kelin? It is Teyla, Teyla Emmagan. Can you hear me?" Her frown deepened at his lack of response. She glanced at Stackhouse, who knelt on the other side of Kelin and palpated the Athosian man's carotid pulse.

Stackhouse looked up at Rentel, who stood next to him. "How long has he been like this?"

"Many hours." Rentel's face was worried.

Stackhouse frowned and pulled his hand away from Kelin's neck. "We need to get him back to Atlantis ASAP."

"We'll need something to carry him on." Markham looked around before fixing a questioning glance on Stackhouse.

Teyla stood. "Rentel, Sorbus, come with me. We will make something in the woods." She looked down at Stackhouse and smiled. "We will not be long."

Stackhouse nodded back. "The quicker the better."

"I'll give you a hand." Markham followed behind them.

Stackhouse watched Teyla, Markham and the two Athosian youths leave the cavern, before glancing around and finding Rodney. "McKay?" 

"What?" Rodney's annoyed answer echoed faintly.

The Sergeant shook his head and smiled slightly. "Find anything interesting?"

"Interesting yes, useful, I'm not sure." Rodney poked a few keys on one of the Ancient consoles and sighed loudly before kneeling and opening a panel on the underside of the console. "I don't get it. Apparently there is some power somewhere, otherwise how did the base shield continue to function? But I can't… ah ha!" Rodney scooted out from under the console as it whined to life, casting a dim orange glow on the floor and walls around it.

"Got something?" Stackhouse asked.

"Yes, power!" Rodney snapped. He started pressing buttons on the console. "Hmm… lots of biological and botanical information about the indigenous vegetation, but nothing in technology or weapons. Wonder what they were researching…."

Stackhouse looked down at Kelin before responding to Rodney. "Whatever it is, it can wait until we get Kelin to Atlantis." The Sergeant glanced at the tunnel, willing Teyla to return.

"Oh boy…."

Rodney's soft exclamation caught Stackhouse's attention. He glanced at Rodney questioningly. "McKay?" Even in the dim light of the cavern, Stackhouse could easily see an astonished look on the doctor's face. "What is it?" 

"There's data here about the natural inhibiting properties some of the indigenous plant life has." Rodney shook his head and stared down at the Ancient console again. "The Ancients were researching biological inhibitors to defend themselves against the Wraith." Rodney looked around. "We need to get a botanist over here." 

"Inhibitors?" Stackhouse thought for a moment. "Like what the Hoffans were doing?"

"Similar," Rodney responded. "But instead of using a mutated human protein, the Ancients were researching naturally occurring inhibitors in plant life."

"Did they find anything?"

Rodney let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh yes, it says right here: 'To fend off a Wraith attack, take three leaves of this plant and wait 12 hours.'"

Stackhouse refused to be baited. "And that plant would be?" He smiled at Rodney's icy stare. Movement in the tunnel diverted the Sergeant's attention. He stood as Teyla, Markham and the two Athosian boys returned. "It can wait, McKay."

"You don't need me to…."

"No, McKay," Stackhouse interrupted. "I'm not leaving you here alone, and no one else is staying."

"I'll be fine! I just want to…."

"No." Stackhouse glared at Rodney. "And that's final."

Irritated, Rodney glared back at the Sergeant for a moment. "Fine." He looked down and tapped a few keys on the console.

Markham, Stackhouse, Teyla and the Athosian boys quickly settled Kelin into the makeshift stretcher. As they headed towards the exit, Stackhouse looked over his shoulder. "Now, McKay!"

----------------------------------

Elizabeth stared out at the long, early evening sunlight that streamed in through the windows behind the inactive Stargate as she listened to Stackhouse's report.

"We don't know if Kelin is going to be okay yet," Stackhouse concluded. "He's in the infirmary now."

She turned and smiled at Stackhouse and Markham. "Well done, both of you." She transferred her attention to a fidgeting Rodney. "You too, Rodney." She sighed. "I just hope we found Kelin in time."

"Yes, yes, this is all so touching, but we have more important things to discuss!" Rodney loudly interjected.

"You know?" Markham glared at Rodney, "I'm always amazed how much you care about other people, McKay."

"What?" Rodney looked at each one of them in turn. "The man is in the infirmary. We don't know anything about his condition and won't for quite a while. We can either sit around and brood about it, or we can talk about what is in that cave. I for one prefer the more productive path!"

Elizabeth arched an annoyed eyebrow at Rodney, before she walked around behind her desk and sat down. "Okay, what did you find, Rodney?"

Rodney pointed at the data pad on her desk. "As my report indicates, the Ancients were studying the natural inhibitors in the local plant life as a means to defend themselves from the Wraith. I don't know much more, because someone," Rodney shot an annoyed look at Stackhouse, "wouldn't let me stay and continue researching it."

"I wasn't going to leave you there alone, McKay," Stackhouse glared at Rodney, "in case something happened. You're doing a good job of making me doubt that decision though."

The look on Rodney's face made Elizabeth swear he was going to stick his tongue out at Stackhouse.

"Very funny!" Rodney snapped.

"Rodney!" Elizabeth's interruption halted Rodney mid rant. She stared sternly at him as he looked over at her. "What's your recommendation?"

Rodney sighed. "That we go back. Now. We take a team, including a couple of botanists, and go back. We need to know if the Ancients were onto anything in their research." 

"Wouldn't they have used it if they had found anything that would help?" Markham asked quietly.

"If they had time!" Rodney sighed. "Their research could've been incomplete, but that doesn't mean it wouldn't be useful to us!" Rodney once again looked at Elizabeth. "We need to go back and find out."

Elizabeth once again looked out over the Gateroom, and the long shadows being cast by the setting sun. She turned back and nodded at Rodney. "Tomorrow. Figure out who you want to take and go back tomorrow." 

"Elizabeth," Rodney started, "tonight would be…."

"No," Elizabeth interrupted. She shook her head. "It's been a long day, Rodney. The outpost has waited ten thousand years. It can wait another day." She arched an eyebrow and gave Rodney a stern look. "Tomorrow."

Rodney stared evenly back at her for a moment, before nodding in resignation. "Fine." He turned and quickly walked out of her office.

Elizabeth sighed and shook her head slightly before looking over at the two sergeants. "Thank you."

Both men smiled but it was Markham that spoke. "Just glad I don't have to fly him back." He smiled at Stackhouse's questioning look. "I have another assignment tomorrow."

Elizabeth smiled back. "I think we can find someone else. That'll be all, gentlemen." She returned her attention to her laptop as the two men quietly left her office. She wasn't sure how long she sat there working before a low voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Elizabeth."

She looked up, straightening in her chair as she stared at John. He was standing rock still in her doorway, his gaze carefully neutral. Stubble lined his face, and it looked as if he hadn't shaved in a couple days. She studied the black lines under his eyes, wondering when was the last time he'd slept well… or at all, for that matter. "John. Come in."

He slowly walked into her office and settled heavily into the chair opposite her desk.

She smiled slightly. "How are you?"

"Fine."

John's answer was immediate and short. Elizabeth nodded slightly… unconvinced. "What can I do for you?"

"I hear they found an Ancient Outpost on the mainland. McKay find anything interesting there?"

Elizabeth looked down at the data pad on her desk. He wasn't even on active duty. He had other things to think about. Deep inside she was torn. How much should she tell him? Or keep from him? Would it do more harm than good to keep anything from him? Or would it fuel his frustration to know everything, yet not be able to do anything about it?

"Elizabeth?"

John's quiet plea forced her hand. She looked up. "Maybe. We're sending a team back tomorrow to check further. According to what Rodney knows so far, the Ancients were studying the natural inhibiting properties in a particular species of flower, as a possible defense against a Wraith feeding attack."

John sat up straight in his chair, the fatigue on his face disappearing. "You're kidding. Does it work?" 

Elizabeth shrugged. "We don't know yet. That's what the team going back tomorrow is going to find out." She watched John's expression take on a contemplative air.

"Markham's escorting an archeological team to MRR-936 tomorrow to study the ruins there. He can't fly them back."

"I know." Elizabeth nodded. "Miller is taking over." She cocked her head slightly as John leaned forward in his chair.

"I should be flying that Jumper."

Elizabeth pursed her lips and slowly shook her head. "No. Miller can handle it."

John sucked in a deep breath and stood. "Damn it, Elizabeth, this is a big deal. We're not talking about some routine trip, we're talking about a possible defense against the Wraith." He leaned both hands on her desk and stared intensely at her. "I need to be there."

Unwavering, Elizabeth stared evenly back. "No."

John sighed loudly and turned away. He paced across her office before turning and looking back at her. "It's bad enough I didn't… I couldn't help find those hunters. You can't keep me out of the loop. Not this time."

Elizabeth crossed her hands on her desk and hung on tightly to her resolve. Her gaze followed John as he paced her office. "You're not out of the loop, John: you know what's going on. But you know the deal. You're off active duty until Heightmeyer says otherwise. That hasn't changed."

John's pacing abruptly halted. He stared hard at her. Anger, frustration and pain just below the surface seeped through his expression. "Fine," he snapped.

"John…." 

"No." John waved a hand at her. "I'm leaving. Before I say something I might regret later." He gave her one more icy stare and stormed out.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, pain flowing freely through her.

---------------------------

Rodney stepped back from the Ancient console and sighed loudly. He glanced at Dr. Samuels, sighing again as the botanist, who was absorbed in his work, didn't pay Rodney any heed. His irritation redoubled. "Find anything?" he demanded loudly.

Samuels looked up and grinned. "This is fascinating! The Ancients did extensive research on the plant life on this world. Their notes on photosynthesis and chlorophyll are amazing…."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, fascinating I'm sure!" he interrupted. "Anything we can** use**?"

"Well," Dr. Samuels looked down at the database display he was reading, "I'm just now reaching some rather interesting notes on the inhibiting properties of a certain flower that the Ancients were studying. Apparently, according to the research, the flower possessed a protein that protected it from a local bacterium that can destroy it in a manner similar to the tissue destruction from the Wraith enzyme. The protein prevents the tissue destruction, and preliminary laboratory tests using Wraith enzyme showed promising results."

Rodney's gaze narrowed. "Sort of like endogenous proteins in grain?"

Samuels nodded. "Yes, similar. Like endogenous proteins inhibit digestibility in humans, the Ancients were researching this plant's proteins to inhibit the Wraith enzyme, maybe even block it entirely." 

"Okay, that's something we can use." Rodney walked to the console and read over the botanist's shoulder. He abruptly stiffened. "Wait. Bacteria? Are we…?"

"Relax," Samuels interrupted. "According to the database, the bacterium was specific to plants. It had no effect on animal life, including humans."

"Good to know," Rodney muttered as he started reading through the data.

"Can one of you translate any of that into English?" Until this point, Corporal Miller had been silently listening to the exchange between the two scientists.

Rodney paused in his reading and glared at the Corporal. "Plant protein good. Protection from Wraith feeding, very good!" he snapped sarcastically.

"Thanks," Miller muttered, as he glared back at Rodney. He glanced at his watch. "Thirty minutes before we go."

"What? We can't just leave!" Rodney once again glared at the young Corporal.

"McKay, you've been at this all day. We're leaving in thirty minutes, and that's final. Besides, I have orders from Dr. Weir to have both of you back in Atlantis by nightfall." Miller smiled smugly. "You can come back tomorrow."

"Fine." Rodney snapped.

-----------------------------------------------------

The narrow path between the back of Heightmeyer's couch, and her desk was becoming increasingly familiar to John as he turned and once again paced its length. He glanced at the psychologist, flashing her a cold glare, his irritation intensifying as she returned his hostility with a neutral expression of her own. "Aren't you going to ask me to sit down?" he snapped.

"No."

John stopped, leaned both hands on the back of the couch, and stared at her.

After a moment, Kate sighed and sat back in her chair. "You're still very angry, John."

"No kidding," John snapped. "Weir pulled me off active duty, and everyone walks around me like they're on eggshells, and never once have any of them listened to what I've told them! I'm fine!"

"I think," Kate answered quietly, "they have been listening to you, John. More than you realize."

"Whatever that means." He pushed away from the couch and resumed walking his path.

"Who was Brianor?"

Kate's unexpected question froze John mid step. He inhaled sharply and pursed his lips, struggling to keep neutral, to stop her from finding something to pick at, but, as he turned a glare on her, John knew pain had still found its way to his eyes. "Who told you about her?"

Kate leaned back in her chair, a knowing look crossing her face. "I've talked with every member of your team, John. Drs Weir and Beckett also."

John's jaw twitched. He was exposed, and that only drove his anger. "My team…."

"Don't." For the first time, Kate interrupted him. "Don't blame them for anything, John. They want to help you. Everyone wants to help you. Why won't you let us?"

"Because I don't need any damn help!" John slammed his fist into the top of the couch emphatically. But, as he glared back at Kate, John saw the blunt determination in her face.

"You're wrong," Kate contradicted him with a confident tone, "and I think deep down, you know it."

At a loss for words, John looked away.

"Who was Brianor?" Kate repeated.

John left his usual path and walked over to the large window. He stared at the distant control tower. "A woman on Palla."

"Was she special to you?"

John slowly turned and glared at her. "You already know the answer to that."

Kate shook her head. "No. I know what the others have told me, not what you're feeling." She arched an eyebrow at him. "Answer the question."

Returning his gaze to the window, John shook his head. "She could've been. We didn't have a chance to find out."

"You found her, didn't you?"

"McKay," John swallowed hard against his anger. 

"John?"

"Yes, damn it!" John snapped. "I did! I found them…," his voice trailed off to a whisper, "both." He shut his eyes against the image, but couldn't shed it. He heard Kate walk over to him, but as he opened his eyes, he refused to look at her. 

"Tell me what you saw," Kate insisted quietly.

"No." Still he refused to look at her, even when Kate squeezed his arm gently.

"John, you can't carry all of this around inside. Cooper's death, Bower's, the Pallans, Brianor and her child: you can't blame yourself for their deaths. The more you bottle this up, and try to ignore it, the more it's going to hurt you. John," Kate's grip tightened on his arm, "listen to me. Don't lose yourself to this."

John's eyes widened and he pulled in a stuttering breath as the doctor's words tripped his memory.

_Brianor stroked his cheek gently. "Do not let loss ruin you, John."_

_He pulled Brianor against him. Her warm, soft body melted into his, and for a moment, John let his cheek rest against her soft hair. Slowly, John leaned forward and kissed her lightly…._

"John?"

Kate's words pulled John back to the present. He stared at her, words escaping him. Again, she'd exposed him… forced him to face his pain… to live it… to acknowledge its presence and face its effects. He involuntarily stepped away from her, but she followed him.

"John? Talk to me. Don't turn away. Not now."

He glared at her, raw, painful emotions consuming him. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"John…."

"No," John cut her off. "Leave me alone." He turned away and stormed from her office.

----------------------------------

"Let me get this straight. The plant the Ancients were studying could defend us against Wraith attack?" Elizabeth's eyes widened incredulously. "Where is it? Have you seen it?"

"Not yet. We were only beginning to read through the pertinent information," Samuels answered. 

"Yes, we'd know more, but the time police over here," Rodney waved at Corporal Miller, "insisted we leave!" Rodney flashed a glare at Miller, who glared back.

"Those were my orders, Rodney," Elizabeth commented. "I knew if I didn't lay down the law, we'd never get you two out of there."

"Yes, well, we don't have any more information for you right now," Rodney answered.

Elizabeth folded her hands on her desk. "Is there any other information there, not related to the Ancients' study of plants?"

"None that we could find," Rodney answered, as he slowly paced across her office. "Looks like it's all the province of the botanists."

"Okay." Elizabeth nodded. She looked up at Samuels. "I want you and Dr. Fusanaki to go back to the mainland tomorrow to continue studying the Ancients' research. See if you can find this plant the database is referring to."

"Ma'am, I'm on duty tomorrow, AM," Miller interjected.

Elizabeth smiled at him. "Okay, we'll find someone else to fly them. Maybe Markham's free. Find out for me, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," Miller nodded. 

"What about me?" Rodney demanded.

"Rodney, your team is going off world tomorrow. I need you to go with them."

"But…." 

"Rodney," Elizabeth interrupted his protest, "you said yourself the research on the mainland is the province of the botanists. I need you to be with your team."

"Fine." Rodney brooded for a moment, before his gaze narrowed slightly. "Major Sheppard?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Major Sheppard is still off duty." She glanced up as Miller's eyes widened, but he said nothing. "Conner is joining you, Ford and Teyla, Rodney. It's a routine reconnaissance of one of the planets we did a MALP survey on a few weeks back. Briefing is at 0900, you embark at 0930." She leaned back in her chair and smiled at all of them. "Thank you, gentlemen, that's all."

----------------------------------------

Elizabeth pushed back from her desk and sighed. Even with working late into the previous night, she swore the stack of reports on her desk was just as big. Crossing her hands on her lap, she stared at the reports littering her desktop, her mind wandering.

In the time since she'd relieved John from duty, he'd seen Dr. Heightmeyer, as per Elizabeth's orders, and kept every appointment the psychologist had made for him. Elizabeth shook her head. She should be satisfied with that, but Heightmeyer's observations of John had Elizabeth worried. "Stubborn," she whispered. Her thoughts wandered to her conversation with Heightmeyer first thing that morning….

_Elizabeth smiled as Heightmeyer entered her office, closed the door, and sat down. "How's Major Sheppard doing?" She watched anxiously as Heightmeyer sighed quietly._

"_I wish he was better," Heightmeyer responded quietly. "He's been diligent in keeping all of his appointments, and we made progress in the first couple of sessions, but he's grown resistant lately… and closed up."_

"_He's frustrated because I won't let him go off world, or even to the mainland," Elizabeth sighed. "But there's no way I'm sending him off world in his current state. Who knows what could happen?"_

_Heightmeyer nodded. "Yes, I agree, and as hard as it is for you to say no, you have to. He's not fit for off world duty. Not yet. But…." She abruptly stood and slowly paced in front of Elizabeth's desk._

_Elizabeth watched her. "But what?"_

_Heightmeyer crossed her arms, her fingers drumming on her upper arms as she thought. "He is deeply frustrated. A lot of that comes from his forced inactivity. Maybe doing something is what he needs, and would help him."_

"_You're not suggesting I send him off world again?" Weir couldn't keep the surprise from her voice._

"_No," Heightmeyer immediately answered. "Definitely not. But, what about letting him fly the next group of scientists to the mainland? It'll let him off Atlantis, at least for an afternoon. It doesn't seem like much, but it could be enough to help him relax a little."_

_Elizabeth sat back in her chair. She smiled at Heightmeyer. "I'll think about it."_

Elizabeth sighed. _That's all I've been thinking about…_ . She was torn. On one hand she wanted to let him go, but on the other, she was hesitant. She glanced at the next mission report. It had the Major's team written all over it: Teyla's network of off-world contacts had given them this lead. A young, agrarian society that Elizabeth hoped Teyla could broker a trade agreement with. While there was no way John would be going, Elizabeth couldn't find a rational reason to keep Rodney and Aiden from accompanying Teyla.

Elizabeth looked up as a figure in the doorway caught her attention. Reserved, she still smiled.

"Am I interrupting?" John quirked his eyebrows, and flashed her one of his best disarming smiles.

Elizabeth leaned forward and held her smile. "Not at all. Come in, John." She watched him intently as he walked into her office, his stride easy and relaxed. He eased into one of the chairs, rested his chin on one of his hands, and smiled back at her.

Elizabeth chuckled. "What do you want?"

"Want?" John arched his brows. "What makes you think I want something?" He grinned again.

"That," Elizabeth pointed at him. "That smile, Major. Now, what can I do for you?"

"Let me off Atlantis," John replied, his expression imploring. "I'm getting cabin fever."

Weir's smile faded. "John…." His wave cut her off.

"I know you're not ready to put me on full active duty yet, but you need someone to fly Samuels and Fusanaki to the mainland today, and I need something to do. At least let me fly them there." He shrugged. "Come on, what trouble could I get into?"

In spite of her reservations, Elizabeth smiled. "Plenty."

"Me?" John arched his brows. "Nah. I'll just fly them there, probably get roped into touching everything in sight," he waved his hand for good measure, "then fly back."

Elizabeth glanced at her computer screen, her gaze fixing on the morning's off-world mission report. Part of her wanted to tell John, and felt guilty for leaving him out of the loop on this. Her gaze unfocused. He seemed fine… normal, back to his old self, yet Heightmeyer didn't share that assessment, and until the psychologist was certain, Elizabeth knew she had to stand by her decision, no matter how much John pressed her to be on active duty again. She slowly smiled. Maybe this trip to the mainland **was** what they both needed. Part of her felt deceitful, but she turned away from it. After all, it might help John too, and that wasn't a bad thing….

"Elizabeth?"

John's voice grabbed her attention. She smiled. "Okay, go."

John grinned and jumped to his feet. "Thanks. See you tonight." He quickly jogged out of her office.

Elizabeth stood, turned and looked out her window at the inactive gate. Sending Sheppard's team off world, without him knowing about it, grated on her, but she tried to let it go. She frowned, her brows furrowing deeply. Sooner or later, he'd find out, and, knowing John, it wouldn't go over well, but that was something she would just have to deal with when the time came.

--------------------------------------

From her place at the far end of the conference room table, Elizabeth watched as Ford, Teyla, McKay and Sergeant Conner filtered one by one into the room.

As each took their seats, Ford was the first one to speak. He looked around, his expression questioning. "Where's the Major?"

Elizabeth pulled in a deep breath. She'd known this question was coming, and made no effort to avoid it. "Major Sheppard is flying Dr. Samuels' team to the Mainland today."

"Shouldn't he be…?"

"No, Lieutenant," Elizabeth cut off Ford's question. "The Major isn't on active duty. He doesn't need to be here." She looked around the room at the tense silence that followed her statement, before turning her attention to McKay. "Rodney? What does the MALP say about M77-241?"

The doctor cleared his throat. "Nothing out of the ordinary. The gate is out in the open, and no one was around when we sent the MALP through."

"Should be fine, ma'am," Ford added quietly.

Elizabeth scanned the MALP report Rodney handed her. "Looks good. Maj…." She bit off her own mistake and looked up. Her gaze narrowed as she met eyes with Ford. "Lieutenant, you have a go." She watched Ford's hesitant expression for a moment, before the young Lieutenant slowly nodded.

"Yes, ma'am," Ford pushed back from the table and stood, the other members of his team following his lead. Silently, they trailed Ford from the room.

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, acutely aware of the tension that still seemed to linger in the room. Her fingers lightly and aimlessly traced over the surface of the table as her thoughts wandered. She had keenly felt John's absence during his captivity on the Wraith ship. The instant he'd returned through the gate, she'd thought all was well. But it wasn't, and she came to the realization that things hadn't been right from the moment he'd returned. He was here. John was back on Atlantis, back with his friends, but he wasn't the same John Sheppard that she trusted… that she relied on.

Elizabeth pursed her lips. She never expected him to just forget what had happened to him, nor that his ordeal wouldn't affect him, but the John Sheppard that threw an Athosian vase against the wall and yelled at her, that drew a gun on her, that hit Rodney, wasn't the John Sheppard she knew. She sighed. Somehow, someone had to get through to him. Make him see that he needed help… and Elizabeth wasn't so sure she was the person to do it.

Elizabeth pushed back from the table, stood and slowly walked from the conference room, her troubled thoughts still plaguing her as she headed back to her office.

-----------------------

Elizabeth stared blankly at the computer screen, concentration eluding her. That seemed to be the norm for the afternoon. The turn of events today occupied her mind to the point of distraction. She sighed, looking up as Peter Grodin stuck his head in her office.

"Dr. Weir? Major Sheppard and Drs Samuels and Fusanaki are en route back from the Mainland. ETA 2 minutes."

Nervousness crept into Elizabeth's gut as she nodded, flashing Grodin a quick smile. "Thank you, Peter." She sighed as he left, chastising herself for her bout of unwanted nerves. She had nothing to apologize for, nothing to feel guilty about in excluding John from the current mission, but telling him about it was not a conversation she looked forward to.

Her thoughts were interrupted by gate activity, as the chevrons began lighting on the Stargate. Elizabeth quickly walked out of her office and crossed the command deck to stand next to Grodin. 

"Incoming wormhole, Dr. Weir," Peter automatically responded as he tapped a few keys on a nearby laptop. "Receiving Lieutenant Ford's IDC."

Elizabeth tapped the receiver on her headset. "Lieutenant? You're two hours early. What's your status?"

"Ma'am!" Ford's tense voice responded against a background of sporadic gunfire. "We've encountered Genii and are under fire! Conner's wounded, and we're coming in hot!"

"Copy that, Lieutenant," Elizabeth immediately responded. She glanced down at Grodin. "Lower the shield." Turning, she made eye contact with a nearby soldier standing guard. "Get a security detail in the gate room now."

The soldier nodded, and ran across the command center, barking orders into his headset.

Elizabeth looked down into the gate room as security personnel descended on the active Stargate from all directions. She pursed her lips, watching, waiting for her people to come through the wormhole. She shook her head and tapped her headset receiver again. "Lieutenant? The way is clear." She pursed her lips once more as silence greeted her for a long moment. "Lieutenant? Do you copy?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ford abruptly responded. "We're working on it."

"Copy that." Elizabeth sighed and waited. Watching the soldiers take defensive positions around the gate, Elizabeth did a double take as a particular figure, bearing a P-90, raced in from the west entrance. She shook her head and watched john take position close to the gate. He stared at the incoming wormhole over the top of his P-90, his face a mask of professionalism, but even from this distance, she could see the barely checked anger.

Gunfire spraying through the wormhole recaptured her attention, and Elizabeth unconsciously ducked. She looked behind her at Grodin. "Keep it open!" She turned back to the gate and watched as Rodney abruptly appeared, half-supporting, half-carrying Sergeant Conner. John ran out from behind cover, interceding himself between Rodney and Conner and the open gate.

Another figure dashed through, weapon firing. Without hesitation, John returned fire, soundly dropping the Genii soldier before he could advance more than a couple feet.

Elizabeth pulled in a nervous breath as John's voice shouted over the radio.

"Ford, Teyla! Get your asses through the gate!"

Elizabeth pulled her eyes from the Stargate and glanced at Rodney, who had managed to drag Conner off to the side and behind cover. Her gaze returned to John. Never taking his aim from the gate, the Major dropped to one knee and stared intently at the wormhole.

Suddenly, Ford and Teyla backpedaled through the gate, still firing back through the wormhole. They both staggered to a stop.

Elizabeth whirled and faced Grodin. "Raise the shield, now!"

Wide-eyed, Grodin punched a button on the Ancient console.

Elizabeth spun back around, staring at the gate as the shield sprang to life. Three distinct flashes bounced off the shield an instant before the gate deactivated. Pulling in a deep breath, Elizabeth tapped her radio receiver. "Medical team to the gate room!" She jogged across the command deck and quickly descended the stairs into the gate room proper.

Ford and Teyla still stood right in front of the gate, both of them panting hard as they tried to catch their breath. Elizabeth's eyes traveled left, and fixed on the prone, unconscious form of Sergeant Conner. John knelt over him, his hands pressed over a bleeding wound in the Sergeant's side. John looked up, his face grim as he made brief eye contact with her, before the arriving medical team drew his attention away. Relieved of care of the wounded soldier, John slowly stood. He wiped his hands on a towel the medical team provided and walked over to Teyla, Ford and Rodney.

Elizabeth watched him as she crossed the gate room. His face was a mask of carefully controlled anger as he stopped in front of his three team members. Elizabeth pursed her lips as John glanced at her, his gaze narrowing in anger. He stared hard at her as she stopped next to them.

Pulling her gaze from the Major, Elizabeth glanced at Ford, McKay and Teyla. "Are you three all right?" She smiled slightly as each one nodded back. "We'll talk about what happened later."

Ford looked at her for a moment, and then flicked his gaze to John before he nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Elizabeth drew in a deep breath as the three of them walked away, and slowly looked at John, who gazed coldly back at her.

"We need to talk. Now." Not giving her a chance to say a word, John dropped the towel on a pile of medical trash and stalked across the gate room towards the main stairs.

Elizabeth sighed and hesitated a moment, before she turned and followed wordlessly behind John.

-------------------------

She entered her office and paused. John was standing squarely in front of her desk, his arms folded defensively over his chest, and his expression a cross between hurt and seething. On the other side of her office, Drs Fusanaki and Samuels waited silently, their expressions pensive as they repeatedly glanced at the major.

Elizabeth smiled briefly at them. "Can you give Major Sheppard and me a moment, please?"

Both doctors nodded silently and exited her office.

Elizabeth reached behind her and slowly pulled the door closed before crossing her office and sitting down behind her desk. "Have a seat, Major," she gestured, keeping her voice carefully neutral.

John stared back at her, silent for a moment, before he sucked in a deep breath. "What the hell was that?"

Her expression strong, Elizabeth arched an eyebrow back at John. "What?"

"That!" John waved his hand emphatically towards the Stargate. "You sent my team off world into a potentially dangerous situation, and I didn't even know about it!"

"Major!" Elizabeth snapped loudly, interrupting John mid-rant. "You are on the inactive list. Mission reports and activities are not your concern until Dr. Heightmeyer says otherwise."

"That's a load of crap, Elizabeth, and you know it! Things are different here than they would be back at the SGC! The safety of this base is my responsibility! I should've been briefed!"

Elizabeth's dark eyes narrowed as she stared back at him. "No, Major! You shouldn't have!" She raised her voice, nearly matching his. "What you should be doing is sorting things out with Dr. Heightmeyer, not standing here yelling at me!" The consummate diplomat, she knew well the dangers of letting other people roll over the top of you, even in the name of diplomacy. No matter the situation, if there was no respect, you couldn't negotiate. This was the second time he'd stormed into her office and decided to yell at her… and that was two times too many. It was going to stop. Now. She pointed emphatically at a chair. "Now, sit down!"

Shock replaced anger on John's face as he stared silently back at her.

Not backing down, Elizabeth glared at him. "Sit!"

Slowly, John uncrossed his arms and eased into a chair.

Elizabeth stared fiercely at him for a moment longer, before softening her gaze and taking a seat in her own chair.

"I should've been briefed," John repeated, this time much more quietly. While controlled, his voice was still angry. "Is that why you let me go to the Mainland? To get me out of the way?" he asked, cynically.

Elizabeth met his hostile gaze with a strong one of her own. "Partly. But I wanted you to have a little time off Atlantis too, John." She flashed him a brief smile.

John pulled in a deep, frustrated breath and rubbed his face before sighing loudly. "I don't like being out of the loop, Elizabeth." He looked at her again, the frustration in his face tempered by pain.

"You'd be back in the loop faster if you'd cooperate with Dr. Heightmeyer, John," she ventured. She watched as John's expression abruptly turned defensive.

"She can't help me."

"John," Elizabeth sighed, "you're not even trying." She pursed her lips at his questioning look. "I've asked Dr. Heightmeyer to keep me appraised of your progress."

A cynical half smile popped onto John's face as he looked away. "Right."

"John, you're a member of my senior staff, and the commander of Atlantis' military personnel. I need to know how you're doing…" she softened her voice, "and I want to know. You're my friend, too, and I'm worried about you."

John looked up at her again. "I'm fine, Elizabeth. Why can't you accept that?"

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "Because every time you come in my office, I feel the need to put my breakables away. You're not fine, John," she insisted, "and everyone sees that but you."

Defensive rage sparked in John's eyes as he quickly stood and pointed angrily at her. "Don't go around behind my back again." He turned and headed for the door.

Elizabeth stood. "John?" But he paid her no heed. She watched as he wordlessly exited her office, her gaze fixed on him until he disappeared down the back stairs. Taking a moment to compose herself, she pulled in a deep breath, before her searching eyes found the two waiting botanists. Surprisingly, Rodney had appeared next to them. She waved them into her office and motioned at the chairs. "Doctors? You're back early from the Mainland. Is everything okay?"

Dr. Samuels exchanged pensive looks with Dr. Fusanaki before he looked at Elizabeth. "We found some bad news," he said, quietly.

Elizabeth sighed. "Never rains, but it pours." She pursed her lips. "What is it, Doctor?"

"The plant the Ancients were studying was from another planet. It's not indigenous to this planet. They had it brought here for study. Unfortunately, according to the database, not long after they brought several specimens to test, the Wraith wiped out its home planet as part of the war. Whether the Wraith found out about the plant, or it was happenstance, the Ancients didn't know, but the entire planet was scorched. The Ancients could find no survivors, or any surviving specimens of the plant, after the Wraith came through."

Elizabeth shook her head. Her gaze narrowed as she once again looked at the doctor. "But you said they brought some of the plants here. Couldn't they have seeded them on the mainland?"

This time, it was Dr. Fusanaki who spoke. "They tried, Dr. Weir."

Her accented voice was quiet, and Elizabeth immediately knew the news wasn't what she'd hoped. "But?"

"Apparently, the climate of the flower's native planet was very specific. For all of their knowledge and expertise, the Ancients could not successfully seed the plant on the mainland. Nor could they even grow it in a controlled environment. According to their notes, they did not know why the plant was not surviving." 

"Before the last specimen died," Dr. Samuels once again spoke, "the Ancients managed to isolate and identify the protein they had been studying…." 

"That's good news," Rodney interjected. "That means we may be able to synthesize it."

Dr. Samuels sighed. "No. The Ancients tried that, but the synthesized protein proved ineffective at best… and lethal when they tested it. One of the Ancient scientists died of unforeseen complications as a result of the synthesized protein. At the point where they abandoned the research, they concluded the protein could not be synthesized."

Elizabeth shook her head and looked away, trying to quell her surging disappointment. A weapon, another means to defend themselves, once again slipped through their fingers. She looked back at Samuels. "Is there anything else?"

"Well," Samuels sighed deeply. "There is a wealth of botanical information in the database that is worth retrieving, but nothing else we can use against the Wraith, if that's what you mean."

Elizabeth nodded. "We'll make sure the information gets retrieved and brought back here for study. Thank you." She stood and turned towards the window, her gaze finding the Stargate. Eventually, the Wraith were going to come for them and, somehow, she had to find a way for her people to protect themselves. Fighting frustration, she became keenly aware that she was not alone. She turned and met gazes with Rodney. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Rodney fidgeted slightly. "Major Sheppard. Is he…?" Rodney sighed. "How is he?"

Elizabeth stared hard at the concern in Rodney's eyes for a moment, before her gaze flicked to the open office door then back to him.

Rodney took the hint. He crossed the room and pulled the door shut, before turning to face her, all signs of his normal egotistical self gone, replaced by genuine concern. "Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth walked around her desk and leaned back against its smooth surface. "The Major…" she sighed, "he's not proving to be a good patient." She shook her head. "This whole ordeal has affected him profoundly, but he refuses to see it." Frustrated, she slapped both hands on her thighs. "He's hardheaded sometimes."

Rodney nodded and settled into a chair. He crossed his arms and stared back at her, his dark eyes sharp with thought. "He's being stubborn." A cynical half smile crossed Rodney's face. "Sometimes it takes one to know one."

Despite her frustration, Elizabeth smiled slightly. "That's pretty enlightened of you, Rodney."

Rodney chuckled quietly. "I have my moments." He flashed her a small smile. "Sounds like someone unpleasant needs to step in… again."

Elizabeth's gaze narrowed. "Rodney what…?"

"You're too nice to him, Elizabeth," Rodney interrupted. "All of you are. Don't get me wrong, I know you've come down on him a few times, but not as much as you should. I on the other hand, am not patient enough to mess with this. We need him. Atlantis needs him. Everyone is walking on eggshells with him. It's high time we broke some of those eggs." Anger sparked in Rodney's eyes.

"Rodney, I don't think this is such a good idea. The last time you confronted him, you ended up in the infirmary."

Arrogance returned to Rodney's expression, mixed with a healthy dose of determination. "This time, I'll duck. This is crap and it's high time someone called him on it." He stood and headed for the door.

"Rodney…." Elizabeth stood, but he ignored her. She sighed as she watched him stalk across the control room and down the back stairs. "Great," she muttered. "I hope you're right, Rodney, for all our sakes."

----------------------------------

At the bottom of the stairs, Rodney stopped as he looked around. His gaze narrowed. Genii spies had nearly killed them today, and he was in no mood to be forgiving. Although he'd never admit it, he had been impressed at how well Ford had handled their situation and got them all home safely – but he knew Ford had wished Sheppard had been there, and, truthfully, so did he. They'd needed the Major today, and if he'd been even half cooperative, it was possible he would've been back on duty by now. He grated his teeth, the movement of his jaw reminding him of the last time he'd confronted Sheppard, but nearly getting killed today had shortened his already scarce fuse.

Part of him told him to leave it be, but he paid it no heed. He'd never restrained himself from voicing his opinion before, and he would be damned if he was going to start now. Tact really had never been his strong point: besides, there was never enough time to get done what needed to be done, without wasting time coddling oversensitive idiots.

Rodney waved at one of the security officers standing post as he walked up to him. "Major Sheppard, have you seen him?"

The SO nodded. "Yeah, he seemed pretty ticked about something, but I think he headed for the observation lounge."

"Thanks." Rodney waved absently back at the SO as he marched down the hallway, his stride determined. At the doorway, he paused for a moment, before smacking the door crystal. He strode into the near empty room, the quiet solitude and sweeping view of the city doing nothing to calm his irritation. "You're a hell of a piece of work, Major," Rodney spat as the doors closed behind him. He glared at John's broad shoulders as the Major stiffened in response to his words.

"What do you want, McKay?"

Rodney crossed the room and stood a safe distance from John. "You to drop the macho soldier routine! Check your ego at the door, Major, and admit you need help!" Rodney crossed his arms defensively.

John whirled around and stared coldly at Rodney. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Rodney. There… is… nothing… wrong… with… me!" He bit off each word before turning away.

"Oh really? We'll you'll excuse me if I stand over here then! Just in case you decide to take another swing! I kind of like my jaw in one piece!" Rodney's gaze narrowed as he watched John's shoulders sag, but the Major remained quiet. Rodney lowered his voice a notch. "We could've used you today, Major, but because of your ego, you weren't there!"

John once again turned and faced Rodney. "Well, that really wasn't my choice, now, was it?"

"So, we're all wrong and you're right! Is that what you're saying? Because I don't buy it! You know, I had an uncle who always swore his singing was on key and everyone else was sharp! Sound familiar? You witnessed the death of Cooper, the death of the Pallans, you've been through a hell of an ordeal, but you stand there and tell me nothing is wrong? Open your eyes, Major! Admit you need help and swallow your pride, just once!"

"You're one to talk about pride, McKay!" John retorted, his face flushing in anger. "When's the last time you admitted you were wrong?"

Rodney stared evenly back, refusing to be baited. "Yeah, well, I should be able to recognize it pretty well then, shouldn't I?"

John turned away and stared out the window. "You need to trust me when I tell you I'm fine!" Though low, John's voice held a dangerous tone. 

"Why should we?" Rodney countered, "you've done a hell of a lot of crap since your capture, not the least of which, you executed a Wraith in cold blood and against Weir's orders! Worse, you don't seem to care one damn bit about it!" Rodney's voice rose in anger once again. "What the hell is right about that?"

John's gaze turned incredulous as he swung round and stared at Rodney. "You're upset because I killed a Wraith?"

"Not killed! Executed! There's a big difference, Major! You murdered him in cold blood and don't seem to really care what that means!" Rodney shook his hands in exasperation.

"What the hell are you ranting about?" John shot back, his face suffused with rage. "They have no reservations about killing us!"

Rodney shook his head in disbelief. "When does it stop, Major?" He refused to let John look away. "Where's the line between them and us? At least the Wraith kill us for food! You just kill them."

"It isn't the same!" Sheppard roared. "It's a matter of survival, McKay! Theirs or ours!"

"Survival of what?" Rodney's voice cracked but he rushed on. "What are you preserving, Major? Killing in cold blood makes us no better than them! We're fighting for more than just ourselves! For who we are! For what we are!" Rodney waved around at Atlantis emphatically. "What good is any of this if we sacrifice that? If we're no better than the Wraith, we don't deserve it!"

John ran a frustrated hand through his hair and stalked to the door. "I'm protecting the people of this base and all our asses! I won't apologize for it."

"Fine!"

McKay's reply stopped John in his tracks. Slowly he turned and looked at Rodney.

Rodney stared evenly back at him. "It's a slippery slope, Major. You're walking a fine line between protection and vengeance. Are you sure you haven't crossed it?" Unrelenting, Rodney held John's gaze until the major looked away. Abruptly, John turned and stalked from the observation lounge.

------------------------------------

John clenched his jaw and stalked down the hallway. He sucked in a deep breath, fighting the rolling emotions within him. His anger flowed freely. Elizabeth had deceived him… gone around behind his back, sent his team into danger, and he hadn't even known about it! Then there was McKay. Rambling on about showing empathy to the Wraith, and all but calling him a cold-blooded murderer!

All the contentment, the relaxation he'd felt from taking a trip to the mainland, dissolved. John felt betrayed, hurt… and angry as hell. A small, nagging, voice urged him to listen to Rodney's words, to try and understand why Elizabeth had done what she'd done, but the tidal wave of emotions that swept over John refused any rationale. He stormed through the Gateroom and out the west exit, his long, fast strides quickly carrying him down the hallway towards his quarters.

"Major!"

John never broke stride as he ignored the voice and continued to stalk down the corridor.

"Major?" 

John glanced out of the corner of his eye as Teyla caught up with him, and matched him stride for stride. "Teyla." He pulled in a deep breath and tried to level his voice. "Beckett give you a clean bill of health?" His tone was cold, John knew it… and he could tell it was not lost on Teyla.

Her gaze narrowed as she nodded. "Yes, I am fine."

"Good," John snapped. He really didn't mean to, but right now there was no tempering his anger. Teyla had done nothing to him, but he didn't care. He was furious, and that anger knew no bounds. He quirked a cynical eyebrow at her before quickening his pace. Again, Teyla matched him stride for stride. "Is there something you want, Teyla?" he snapped in irritation.

"When I am angered, I find physical exercise helps me to feel better," she ventured quietly. "Perhaps it would work for you also, Major."

John froze in his tracks before slowly turning to face her. He eyed her suspiciously. "No talk? No trying to persuade me that something is wrong? No telling me to talk to someone about it?" He stared evenly at Teyla's penetrating gaze.

"You are not of the mind to listen to anyone right now. I will not talk to you if you do not wish it."

John pulled in a deep breath and nodded brusquely. "I'll meet you in the gym in ten." He turned away, once again heading towards his quarters.

---------------------------------

"Defend yourself," Teyla said quietly, as she lifted her sticks and circled John.

He watched her. Still in her uniform, Teyla had shed her boots and coat. Her bare feet were noiseless as she continued circling him. John twirled one stick, before raising both into a defensive position. His left hand, and calf, stung from her previous attack, and sweat tickled his brow, but, despite the physical discomfort, he had to admit he felt a little better. Some of the tension had left his body, and his anger was once again reduced to a low boil.

Teyla's attack was sudden, and John barely defended himself as one minute she was slowly circling him, and the next she was forcing him back across the gym with a furious combination of high and low blows. He winced as she once again ducked inside his defense and delivered a stinging blow to his bicep. Distracted by the blow, he felt his guard drop and once again found himself admiring the ceiling, before Teyla's face appeared over him, graced by a smug smile.

"Are you all right, Major?"

John sighed and sat up. His frown deepened. "You still kick my ass at this," he muttered, as he rubbed his bicep tenderly and slowly stood.

Teyla twirled one of her sticks expertly. "It takes years, Major, to master the sticks."

He stiffened. Unbidden and unwelcome memories flashed through his head.

_…or you will watch me take all of your companion's years..._

Fred's face filled John's mind. His heart raced, his breathing quickened, and he blinked hard against the unwanted images. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to control the sea of emotions that washed over him.

_Hissing, the female slammed her hand into Cooper's chest…._

John felt Fred's presence, his grip… his words….

"_That is your fate, human! I will feed upon your strength and savor all of your years!"_

Cooper's torture filled John's mind… twisted his emotions… filled him with rage….

"Major?"

Teyla took a step towards him, but John waved her away. Anger boiled in him, as his mind latched onto the source of his rage.

"I'm fine." He twirled his sticks effortlessly and assumed a fighting position. He wrestled the image of Fred in his mind and struggled to concentrate, all the while giving Teyla the best even stare he could muster.

Shrugging slightly, she assumed a defensive position and awaited his attack.

He lunged, varying his attack between several high and low blows as he drove her back across the gym. His advantage was short-lived: she was suddenly on the offensive and he found himself backtracking, struggling to stay ahead of her lightning-fast attack. He mustered a brief offensive, striking hard at her, but she easily ducked under his blow, shoved her stick under his arm and, using her weight, pulled his arm behind him. The next thing John knew, Teyla was behind him, his arm was twisted between their bodies, and her stick was across his throat.

Unbidden, John felt panic rise in him. The twisting of his arm, the pressure at his throat, once again threw John unwillingly into a nightmare of memories. Everything around him darkened, and all he could see was the Wraith ship. His throat constricted under the grasp of a Wraith guard… he felt the grip on his arm, the brutal torture of his body. A small part of him knew he wasn't on that ship, but that quiet voice of reason was utterly overwhelmed by his primal fear. Autopilot took over, as John panicked, searching for any way to escape the Wraith. Not again... they wouldn't torture him again...

"NO!" John's pleading shout echoed through the ship and startled his captor.

He felt the Wraith's grip on him falter and he took advantage of the surprise. He pushed back forcefully, his movements driven by desperation. Slipping under the arm that held his throat, he wormed his way free. This time he was armed. This time he had a means to defend himself. It wasn't a P-90, but he would make the best use of what he had. Spinning, he delivered the hardest blow he could. With satisfaction, he felt the hard impact of stick to bone beneath his blow. The Wraith staggered and John pressed his advantage, striking another blow across the back of its head. He straightened, feeling powerful… in control… strong, as he watched the Wraith fall heavily to the floor.

Abruptly, his mind cleared and John froze. He stared down at the prone and deathly still form of Teyla. His anger dissolved, his memories vanished, leaving his mind blank in their wake. He blinked hard, unable to process what had just happened.

Numb, he could only stare at her. A trail of blood worked its way down her cheek, and from where he was, he couldn't tell if she was alive. In the back of his mind, he noticed his stick slip from his deadened fingers and clatter to the floor. "God," he whispered.

Speaking snapped him from his paralysis. "Teyla!" He knelt next to her, his fingers pressing into her throat. "Teyla? Can you hear me?" He let out a pent-up breath as her pulse gently beat against his fingers, and nodded briefly to himself as he watched the slow rise and fall of her chest. Pushing himself to his feet, he ran across the gym and grabbed his radio. He shoved the receiver in his ear and quickly tapped the call button. He pulled the microphone up to his mouth as he ran back to Teyla's side. "Beckett, this is Sheppard. I have a medical emergency in the gym. Get here now!" He knelt next to her once again and found her pulse.

"Major?" Carson's concerned voice immediately responded. "What's happened?"

"I... I hit Teyla." John forced the waver from his voice. "She's down and unconscious. Now get over here, damn it!"

"I'm on my way, Major," Carson quickly responded. "Don't move her until I get there."

"Copy that," John whispered. He gently pushed a wisp of hair back from Teyla's face, willing her brown eyes to open. "Teyla?" His concerned voice was quiet. "I'm sorry."

He stared at her, unable to tear his eyes from her still form. He swallowed hard, fighting the nausea that plagued him. His mind was reeling as he tried to understand what he'd done, but he couldn't. He'd been on autopilot… swept up in raw and dangerous emotions… and completely out of control. John sat back on his heels, his hands shaking as he swallowed hard, determined not to give in to his rebelling stomach. Movement caught his eye as Carson and his medical team rushed into the gym. The doctor knelt next to John and began examining Teyla, all the while snapping off orders to his team. "I didn't move her," John whispered. He wanted to help, wanted to do something, but his body was numb, his mind was reeling, and it took everything he had not to lose his lunch.

"Major?"

Carson's voice demanded his attention. He slowly looked at the doctor, who put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

"Give us some room to work, all right?"

John nodded slightly and scooted away from Teyla. He felt the hard wall behind his back and settled his weight against it. A chill shot through his body, and he pulled his knees up close. He closed his eyes against the sight of Teyla being strapped to a backboard and lifted to the gurney, but he couldn't escape the image. He let his head fall forward to rest on his knees as guilt overwhelmed him.

-------------------------------

Elizabeth stopped in the doorway and sidestepped the gurney carrying Teyla as the medical team wheeled it past her. She made eye contact with Beckett as he paused in front of her. "Carson?"

Carson sighed. "I need to get her to the infirmary. It's too soon to tell anything." He flashed Elizabeth a grim smile before trotting down the hallway to catch up with the retreating gurney.

Elizabeth watched them for a moment, before returning her attention to the gym. Her gaze fixed on the unmoving form of Major Sheppard. She sighed as sympathy coursed through her. His head resting on his knees, and hands wrapped behind his head, his face was hidden from her, but Elizabeth didn't need to see his expression to know he was in shock. With the exception of sitting up, John's body position was almost fetal, and a distinct flavor of insecurity seemed to surround him.

Elizabeth reached up and slowly removed her radio headset, turned it off, and carefully put it in her coat pocket, before she slowly crossed the gym. Stopping in front of him, she knelt. "John?" She kept her voice quiet and gentle as she watched him for any reaction. She pursed her lips and reached out, squeezing his forearm gently. "John? It's okay." Her gaze narrowed as his head moved back and forth against his knees.

"No, Elizabeth, it's not okay." Muffled, John's voice was still thick with emotion.

Elizabeth swallowed, fighting her own pain at seeing him this way. She watched as he slowly lifted his head. It took everything she had to keep shock from her expression as he fixed red-rimmed eyes on her.

"What have I done?"

Barely above a whisper, his voice screamed with pain, remorse and guilt. Elizabeth took a deep breath, mustering as much reassurance as she could. "We'll get you through this, John. I promise." She tried to hold his gaze, but he let his head fall forward onto his knees once again.

Slowly, Elizabeth sat down next to him. She leaned back against the wall. There was nothing she could say to take away his pain, or make everything okay, so she settled for quiet reassurance instead of empty platitudes. Countless times since they had arrived in Atlantis, John had been there for her, supporting her and being her strength. She took a deep breath and rested her head against the wall. It was high time she returned the favor.

It was a long time before he moved, but finally he lifted his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. She watched him intently, but still said nothing, leaving it to him to speak first. He stared across the gym, his expression pained.

"I could've killed her," he whispered.

Elizabeth shook her head. "But you didn't." John didn't look at her, so she squeezed his arm firmly. "Hey, listen to me. Teyla's still alive." Her gaze narrowed as again he swallowed before slowly nodding.

"I don't even know if she's okay."

Elizabeth pulled her feet under herself and stood. She stared down at him. "What do you say we find out?" she ventured quietly. She watched him intently for a moment, before he finally, slowly stood. He looked at her, his gaze questioning.

"Wait… how did you know what happened?"

Elizabeth smiled grimly. "Carson called me on his way here. He filled me in."

"Oh." John slowly crossed the gym towards the door.

Watching him, Elizabeth shook her head, before following behind.

----------------------------

It was a good thing walking was instinctive because, right now, John's mind couldn't process anything. Somehow his feet moved, one step following another as he slowly made his way towards the infirmary. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he heard Elizabeth's footsteps behind him, and he knew she was there with him. Everything around him was a haze… his mind foggy and too shocked to really process the events that led him to this moment. Numbness surrounded him… shielded him from the cold bite of reality. He stepped into the transporter and stopped as Elizabeth reached out and tapped the display screen gently. The tingling of the transporter breached his numbness for a moment, before the doors once again opened, and he found himself walking down the main corridor of the command tower. He rounded a gentle right-hand corner and stopped, his eyes transfixed on the infirmary doors. He glanced at Elizabeth as she stopped next to him. He continued staring at her as she returned his look with a strong, reassuring gaze of her own.

He pulled in a deep breath and slowly walked into the infirmary, Elizabeth right beside him. He looked around, freezing in his tracks as he laid eyes on Teyla, motionless, and surrounded by a medical team. He squeezed his eyes shut, his face contorting in pain. Like a knife, the sight of Teyla, still unconscious, pierced his clouded mind. Pain from the image, fueled by guilt, surged through him. She was that way because of him. He did it. He attacked her… hurt her… could've killed her. A woman… a member of his team… an innocent…. his friend….

"John?"

Elizabeth's voice was faint to John as he pulled in rapid, deep breaths, trying to control himself. He spun around, turning his back on Teyla, but the image in his head would not be deterred. "I… I can't do this."

"John…."

"No!" John's voice rose as his emotions crashed through the numbness that had surrounded him since the accident. "Elizabeth, I can't do this!" Without looking at her, he stormed from the infirmary.

His stride faltered slightly as he heard Elizabeth's voice behind him, but he dismissed her call. He couldn't go back, couldn't face the sight of Teyla again. He didn't know what to do or even where he was going, but his feet carried him down the corridor anyway. Arriving at his quarters, he smacked the control crystal and stepped through the doorway, stopping as the doors slid shut behind him.

It was dark… and it fit his mood. He drew in deep gasping breaths as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Once again, anger surged through him, and John felt his control slipping away. It was always there, these days, his anger. Somewhere in the background, constantly at a low boil, he keenly felt its presence…. and dreaded its rise to dominance. His eyes snapped open, the epiphany of realization surging through him.

Little things... concerned doctors, McKay's annoying comments, Bates contradictory statements, all gnawed at John. He used to just let most of it go... slide right off him like water off a duck's back. But that was before. Before Fred… before his capture… before his rescue.

Everything had changed. John panted slightly as he forced his mind to relax and continue to wander. Like staring at himself in a mirror, John saw the duplicity of his emotions, the change in his persona… the effect his ordeal had on him. No matter how hard he'd tried to go on with his life, nothing had been the same after his capture, and the more he tried to put things behind him, the more they plagued him, angered him… irrationally drove him.

_He'd lost men under his command before, why was this any different?_

It was a thought… a fact… he'd clung to… stuck to, insisting to himself and everyone around him that this was no different. It had happened before, it could happen again. He'd grieve, feel bad and then go on. Yet, through it all, he'd never felt this way before… never acted this way before….

Never hurt someone because of it.

Images of Cooper flooded his mind, but instead of fighting them, he gave in, allowing them to play through his head. He saw the Corporal's easy smile, and his enthusiastic sense of humor. He saw Cooper's bravery, his guts, and his strength.

Cooper's torture and death flashed before him again, as it had more times than he could count since his rescue. Agonizing... brutal... torturous, Cooper's death had been vastly different. He'd slowly died over the course of two days... died right in front of John's eyes.

And John had been helpless to stop it.

"_You were helpless and you… can't… stand it!"_

McKay's words echoed in John's head, as his rational mind plunged through his anger and his rage and latched on to the cause.

The dawning realization swept over John as he sank heavily into a chair, his mind reeling.

----------------------

Elizabeth watched John go, only mildly surprised her call didn't stop him. Lately, none of his unusual actions surprised her. She sighed before turning and re-entering the infirmary. She hung back, standing out of the way, as Beckett completed his latest exam on Teyla. She smiled grimly at him as he looped his stethoscope over his neck and walked up to her. "How is she, Carson?"

Carson smiled slightly. "X-rays were negative and, according to the Ancient scanner, there's no sign of hemorrhage or any trauma to her brain. I'd feel better if she was awake, but I think she's going to come through this with just a concussion. She's bloody lucky." Carson's gaze narrowed slightly. "Where's Major Sheppard? I thought I saw him come in with you."

"Hmm…." Elizabeth nodded, relieved at Carson's prognosis of Teyla's condition. "On to the next problem." She sighed. "He was here, but took one look at Teyla and left." Elizabeth glanced at the injured Athosian before looking back at Beckett. "This really shook him up."

Carson nodded thoughtfully. "Aye, I'd expect it would. Maybe now he'll let someone help him?"

Elizabeth nodded slightly, her thoughts lingering on John's attitude earlier in the gym. "I hope so, Carson, for his sake."

--------------------------------------------

Kate Heightmeyer pushed back from her desk and sighed heavily. The threat of the Wraith was taking its toll on the people of Atlantis, and once again, she saw herself facing a full day of sessions tomorrow. She stood, stretched, and slowly crossed her spacious office. She stopped in front of the large panoramic windows and stared at the distant West Pier, marveling at its beauty. A wry smile popped onto her face. No matter how long she stayed here, Kate still had problems sometimes accepting they were in another galaxy, completely isolated from Earth. "Not exactly something covered in medical school," she muttered to herself. But, then again, neither were the Wraith. No one could've been prepared for facing beings who sucked the life from you. That saw you as livestock… a commodity there for the purpose of feeding them. As Kate tried to guide people through their feelings, she was continually reminded that she was venturing into uncharted waters. Through every session, she portrayed confidence, understanding and gave advice, but inside she constantly wondered if she was doing the right thing.

Turning away from the window, she slowly made her way back to her desk. As she reached for her chair, a quiet knocking at her door grabbed her attention. "Coming," she called as she crossed the room and lightly tapped the door crystal. Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at Major Sheppard, who leaned heavily on the doorframe. His clothes were disheveled and his expression was haggard, but, beyond that, he seemed resigned and tired. Nowhere was there a sign of his normal self, or of the spirit that she'd seen many times during their sessions. "John? What is it?" She stared into his eyes, searching for a reason. John stared back at her, his eyes hollow.

"I… I can't take this any more, I can't control it any more." His head dropped and his voice turned to a whisper, "I need your help."

Kate sighed, recognizing how hard his admission had been. She grabbed his arm and pulled gently. "Come in here and sit down." She smiled slightly, reassuringly as he once again looked at her. "We'll get you through this, John."


	6. Book III Chapter I

_**Part 3 – Freedom**_

_In the depth of winter, I finally learned that there was within me, an invincible summer._

_Albert Camus_

Blackness turned to gray, and gray gave way to light as John slowly opened his eyes. He blinked hard and looked around. A white, plush chair greeted his gaze, along with a standing plant in the corner nearby. His brows furrowed in confusion as he brushed his hand over the white couch under him, and the soft throw pillow that cradled his head. He pushed back a brown, wool blanket that covered him and groaned. Slowly, he lifted himself up on one elbow and rolled his head gingerly, the kinked muscles in his neck protesting loudly.

"Good morning."

John quickly looked up, winced at the stiff muscles in his neck, and stared directly into the blue eyes of Kate Heightmeyer. Confusion swept through him. "What…?"

"You fell asleep on my couch, John. I thought it best to just let you sleep there."

"Oh." John let himself collapse back down on the couch. A small part of him urged him to stand up and get out of the psychologist's hair, but the rest of him quelled that urge. He felt wrung out, exhausted and frankly, like crap. He reached up, rubbed his throbbing temples, and swallowed against his nausea. If he didn't know better, he would've sworn he'd gone ten rounds with a bottle of tequila, but then again he never got hangovers. _Unless you count that one time in New Orleans…._

"John? Are you okay?" Heightmeyer's concerned voice grabbed his attention.

"Nothing a hot shower and a strong cup of black coffee wouldn't cure," John muttered. "I feel like it's the morning after the night before." A hollow smile briefly touched his mouth. He glanced at the doctor.

Kate nodded in understanding and sat back in the chair across from him. "I'm not surprised. Your body can only take so much stress. After yesterday, this was bound to happen."

The small remnants of a smile that John briefly felt quickly fled from his face. Painful memories cramped his gut, and he winced slightly in response before closing his eyes against it. Images of Teyla, Beckett, Weir…. Fred, all flashed through his head. His fight, Teyla's injury, the infirmary, all blurred through his mind. Somehow he'd ended up on Heightmeyer's doorstep, although John wasn't really sure how he got there, or why he'd done it. Somehow, through it all, something in him had snapped and with it had gone his confidence, his stability and his strength. Left shattered in its wake, a voice deep within him had cried out for help… and his feet had brought him here. Words, powered by his emotions had surged forward and tumbled from his mouth….

John opened his eyes and looked over at the patient face of Heightmeyer. "I kept you up pretty late last night," he whispered, his voice laced with regret. "I'm sorry."

Kate stared back at him, her smile understanding. "Don't apologize. It was exactly what you needed, and what I'm here for." She casually rested her hand on her crossed knee and stared intently at him. "You took a very important first step to getting better, John. If I had to lose a little sleep for it, then I'm fine with that."

John tore his gaze from hers and stared blankly at the ceiling. Whispers of fear, of insecurity, of resistance flirted with him. A wave of helplessness swept through him, and he slowly shook his head in response. "I…" he sighed, "I don't know what to do from here." Insecure at exposing himself to anyone, John pursed his lips tightly. He was startled as he felt Heightmeyer's reassuring grip on his forearm. Kate's soft voice forced him to once again look at her.

"I doubt I can find you any coffee, but start with the hot shower." Her smile intensified slightly. "Then come back here, and we'll talk."

John stared at her for a moment, before nodding slowly. He pulled his arm from her grasp and slowly sat up. He pressed his palm into his forehead and groaned against the stabbing pain that greeted it. "Damn. Maybe a fist full of aspirin from Beckett…." His voice trailed off as guilt surged through him. "Teyla," he whispered.

"John? John, look at me," Kate insisted.

John slowly opened his eyes and stared at the compassion he saw in her eyes. Compassion he knew was in response to the guilt she saw in his.

"Come here first. We'll talk. Then we'll go see Teyla together, okay?"

John's mind raced, but he nodded anyway. "Elizabeth. I should…." His voice trailed off as Heightmeyer interrupted him.

"She knows. I've already talked to her. She was looking for you and called me." Kate sighed. "John, stop worrying about anyone else. I want you to focus on you, okay?"

John nodded. "Okay." Part of him wanted to think about everyone else… and not about himself, but he resisted. He blinked as he tried to come to grips with what had happened to him, especially in the last 24 hours, but the harder his mind tried to process it, the more it baffled him. Resigning himself to the numb shock, he slowly stood. He should think about things, work them out, work through this, but all the fight was gone from him. He stared down at his wrinkled clothes, and swallowed against the dry stickiness in his mouth. He winced. "I'll be back."

Kate smiled. "I'll be here."

----------------------------------

John tilted his head back, allowing the hot water to cascade through his hair, and run down his tense back. He pulled in a deep breath of humid air through his nose, allowing it to escape through his mouth as the rapid beating of water against his head and back, slowly eased the tension from his muscles. He stretched his arms over his head, before running his hands through his hair, as his mind wandered. His guilt returned as his thoughts lingered on Teyla, in the infirmary, unconscious and injured because of him… because of what he'd done. He turned around and plunged his face into the streams of water. He wanted so much to know she was okay, to see her, but part of him resisted. His guilt turned to anger. Part of him was afraid to go. _What the hell are you afraid of? _he chastised himself. He pulled his face out of the water and shook his head violently. He wiped the water from his eyes and again ran his hands through his hair. He switched off the water and stepped out of the shower, automatically snagging a nearby towel. Rubbing his face vigorously, he quickly dried himself, wrapped the towel around his waist and walked out of the shower room, his barefoot steps almost noiseless.

He stopped in his tracks as his gaze fixed on his gym bag, resting casually on a chair in the corner. Protruding innocently from the top of the bag, the handles of his fighting sticks refused to relinquish his attention. Relatively new, the sticks had been a gift from Teyla. Vividly, he remembered the day….

_John turned, looking over his shoulder as Teyla strolled into the gym. "You're late." He smiled playfully._

_Teyla smiled back and arched an eyebrow at him. "I am sorry. There was something I needed to do first." Shrugging her pack off her shoulder, she pulled out a set of fighting sticks John had never seen before. _

"_Those are new," he commented. "What's the occasion?"_

Teyla's smile broadened as she let her bag slip to the floor. Holding the sticks flat in the palms of both her hands she crossed the gym and held them out to him. 

_He stared at the sticks for a moment, before he arched an eyebrow at her. "What?"_

_Her smile was warm and respectful. "These are for you, Major. If you are to embrace the fighting skills of my people, then you must have your own set. May they serve you well."_

_He stared at her for a moment, before he felt gratitude warm his features. "Thank you." He reached out and slowly took the sticks from her hands. _

_Teyla's smile mirrored his as she nodded once. "You are welcome, Major."_

_Twirling the sticks casually, his expression turned playful. "Gonna make a warrior out of me yet?"_

_She had turned away from him, but his words captured her attention again. She slowly faced him. "I cannot make you something that you already are, Major."_

_His aimless twirling of the sticks halted as John stared intently at her for a moment. A small smile turned up one side of his mouth. He nodded slightly._

_Teyla returned his gaze for a moment before her expression turned mischievous. "But I can make you a better one."_

Coming back to the present, John's answering laugh echoed in his head. He sighed deeply. More than just a member of his team, Teyla was his friend, his companion in more than one life-or-death situation. He owed it to her to be there, to be with her while she recovered… even if he was the reason she was injured in the first place.

He tore his gaze from the fighting sticks and quickly dressed. He laced his boots and stood, his eyes settling on his holstered 9mm hanging over the back of his desk chair. His gaze narrowed. Elizabeth had relieved him of duty, but that didn't mean he wasn't still a soldier. _Damn it,_ he shook his head slightly, _I gotta have something normal in my life._ He grabbed the gun and quickly secured it around his waist and buckled the thigh straps. Reaching over to his desk, He grabbed his radio and donned his headset. _I've been out of the loop too long. Not any more._ Part of him wondered if Elizabeth would notice… or if she would object.

As he exited his quarters, he paused. He looked left, towards the direction of the infirmary, then right towards the distant office of Heightmeyer. Indecision gripped him.

He stood, rooted in the hallway, the internal struggle leaving him motionless. Part of him was impatient, wanting to bypass the psychologist's office and head straight to the infirmary. But, a quiet voice of reason whispered to him, urged him to listen to the doctor… and to give her a chance to help. He sighed, a cynical half smile flashing across his face. After turning away from it the last month, he keenly felt the effect of that voice of reason. It was a sparkle of normalcy and he latched onto it. Inhaling deeply, he turned right and walked briskly down the hallway.

-----------------------------------

Elizabeth's steps were determined as she made her way down the long corridors of Atlantis to the infirmary. The familiar hallwats turned this way and that, but she navigated them easily. The familiarity was a blessing, for although her destination was the infirmary, her mind was definitely elsewhere.

So much had happened in the last 24 hours, it was a struggle for Elizabeth to process it all. The mainland outpost, Teyla's injuries….

Her step faltered for a moment, as Elizabeth's thoughts turned to John. She quirked an eyebrow and resumed her trek to the infirmary. Lately, she wondered how her thoughts ever left the troubled Major. The last time she'd seen him, he'd stormed from the infirmary. Guilt and pain had been the emotions she'd seen in him before he'd disappeared. After a few hours and no sign of him, nor any response to her radio calls, her concern had redoubled. She'd contacted anyone she could think of who might have seen him….

_Pacing the length of the Deck, Elizabeth once again tapped her headset. "Dr. Heightmeyer, this is Dr. Weir." Reaching the eastern railing, she turned and once again crossed the length of the Deck._

"_This is Heightmeyer."_

_Elizabeth paused, her eyes narrowing at the hushed and distracted tone of Heightmeyer's voice. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Doctor, but I need to know if you've seen Major Sheppard?" The long silence on the radio sparked Weir's impatience. "Doctor?"_

"_He's here," Heightmeyer slowly responded._

_Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed deeply. "Thank God," she whispered. The hesitation and solemn tone of Heightmeyer's voice finally sank in. "Is he all right?" She could've sworn she heard Heightmeyer sigh._

"_As well as he could be, yes. Up until about 10 minutes ago, we were talking. He's sleeping now. I'm going to just let him sleep himself out on my couch."_

_Hope glimmered in Elizabeth. "Talking? Then he…?" Her voice trailed off, but Heightmeyer picked up on her thought._

"_Admitted he needed help? Yes. It was a very difficult admission for him to make, Dr. Weir, but he managed to make it. It's going to be tough, but I think I can help him now."_

_Elizabeth sighed loudly, relief washing through her. "Thank you, Doctor, keep me posted. Weir out."_

"_I will. Heightmeyer out."_

Elizabeth rounded the final corner to the infirmary, her thoughts coming back to the present. Relief had stuck with her since that conversation, but thinly veiled concern still followed her. In the months she'd known John Sheppard, she'd seen a formidable strength within him, yet she wasn't sure even he was strong enough to bounce back. Everything that had happened… that he had put himself through, that he'd endured, could've easily broken him… and it scared her to think that it still could. _At least he's getting help._ She clung to that thought and pushed the others away.

Crossing the threshold to the infirmary, she paused, her eyebrow creeping up in surprise. Standing not far from Teyla's bed, Rodney hadn't noticed Elizabeth's arrival.

She crossed the room and came up behind him. "Rodney?"

Startled, Rodney turned. "Elizabeth. Oh, uh, Hi."

She smiled slightly at him before looking over at Teyla's motionless form. Movement from the other side of the infirmary grabbed her attention and she glanced up at Carson, smiling as the doctor approached them. "Carson. How is she?" She felt relief at his relaxed smile.

"Sleeping. She woke up a few hours ago."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "She did? And you didn't call me?"

"Aye, she did," Carson's expression took on a tolerant air. "You're right, I didn't call you."

Elizabeth sighed. "Carson, she's a member of my senior staff, I would've appreciated a call…."

"At four in the morning?" Carson interrupted her. "It's been a busy few days, Elizabeth. You needed your sleep, and this could wait." His tolerant look abruptly turned to a challenging one.

Elizabeth's gaze narrowed in mock seriousness. "Who's in charge here?"

Carson returned the look. "When it comes to the health of the expedition team, you included, I am." He gave her a disarming smile, complete with dimples.

Elizabeth shook her head, her gaze drifting from Telya to the other patient in Carson's care. "What about Kelin?"

Carson shook his head. "That one? He's as strong as an ox, and has a head to match it. He's going to be just fine."

"Dr. Beckett?" Carolyn Lansing came up behind Carson and extended a data pad in his direction.

Carson smiled at Elizabeth and Rodney. "Excuse me."

Elizabeth smiled and nodded, before she looked at Rodney expectantly, her smile turning smug as he stared evenly back at her.

"What?"

"I'm surprised to see you here, Rodney." Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, well, I thought I'd just stop by…" Rodney's voice trailed off at Elizabeth's upraised hand.

"You don't have to explain anything." Her gaze turned knowing as she held his look for a long moment.

The opening infirmary doors grabbed the attention of both of them. Elizabeth felt her smile fade away as her gaze fixed on John Sheppard.

Dr. Heightmeyer not far behind him, John's steps were unsure. Just through the doorway he stopped, and Elizabeth got a good look at him.

Her lips tightened together as she took in his appearance. Black circles lined his hollow eyes, devoid of any of the spark she'd come to know so well. His expression was unfamiliar to her, and it took Elizabeth a long moment to realize it was hesitation and uncertainty that dominated his look… two emotions she'd never seen on the confident Major's face. Slowly, he made eye contact with her, and Elizabeth immediately pushed her mouth into a small smile. She crossed the infirmary to him. "John," her voice was quiet and reassuring, "good to see you."

John quirked an eyebrow slightly and swallowed. "Yeah," he whispered. He pulled in a deep breath, stepped around Elizabeth, and walked up to Teyla's bed.

Elizabeth, Heightmeyer and Rodney followed him, but it was Elizabeth that stood next to him. She glanced at his stoic expression as he silently stared down at the Athosian woman. "She's going to be okay, John," Elizabeth reassured him quietly. His face remained impassive, his gaze fixed on Teyla. A small twitch in his cheek was the only indication he'd heard her.

"Carson said as much," Rodney added. "She's sleeping."

Surprise broke the impassiveness of John's gaze as Teyla stirred slightly before opening her eyes. She blinked once and pulled in a deep breath. "I was sleeping, Dr. McKay."

Rodney's embarrassed expression was lost to Teyla as she slowly turned her head and looked straight into John's eyes.

Elizabeth studied Teyla's features for a moment, before nodding slightly to herself. There was no sign of malice, distrust or anger in Teyla's expression, only understanding, recognition and friendship.

A faint smile crossed Teyla's face as she nodded slightly at John. "Major."

John inhaled deeply, his pursed lips twitching over a clenched jaw. He seemed at a loss for words as he just stared back at her.

Elizabeth felt Heightmeyer's hand brush her arm, and glanced at the doctor.

Heightmeyer nodded towards the doorway, clearly wishing to give John and Teyla a few moments alone.

Elizabeth nodded once, and gestured slightly at Rodney, although she could've waved both arms over her head and John still would have never seen her. His gaze was transfixed on Teyla, and he noticed nothing else. Elizabeth took one last look at John's stoic expression before she left his side, Heightmeyer and Rodney right behind her.

--------------------------

He just stared down at her. Emotions surged over him, but they left no words behind. His mind raced, but came up empty. He could've killed her. There were no words that could apologize for that.

"Major."

Teyla's quiet voice broke through the roaring in his ears. He felt his brows furrow, his gaze narrow, but still no words came to him.

"It is all right, Major."

Teyla's voice was reassuring, but John would have nothing to do with it. He slowly shook his head, and found his voice. "No, Teyla, it's not," he whispered.

"Major," Teyla insisted quietly, "accidents can happen, you know that."

"No." John shook his head slowly. He closed his eyes for a moment against the memory, before opening them and staring guiltily down at her. "It wasn't an accident."

Teyla's gaze narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"

He noisily sucked in a deep breath. "I… lost control." He winced at the difficult admission but plunged forward with his explanation anyway. "Something you said… I heard, it made me think of the Wraith ship… of being interrogated… hit…." His voice trailed off as he closed his eyes against the memories. For a long moment, he struggled against the sea of emotions that tried to overwhelm him, before slowly opening his eyes and once again looking at Teyla.

Her expression was thoughtful, but understanding. John saw no malice, no anger in her eyes, and he felt some confidence return to him. "I…" John's brows knitted. Hesitantly, he reached out and gently took her hand, ready to pull away at the first sign of discomfort from her. It was a level of personal contact he'd never allowed before. Teyla was a member of his team, and there were lines of protocol he refused to cross. But, at this moment, John wanted… needed for her to know the depth of his sincerity.

Teyla arched an eyebrow at his gesture, but her expression remained warm.

John squeezed her hand firmly, but gently. "I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you, Teyla. Ever." He felt another surge of reassurance as a smile slowly formed on her face and her grip tightened within his.

"I have never thought otherwise, Major." She glanced past him at the small group of people clustered by the doorway, doing their best not to watch. Her smile turned slightly amused, before it faded and she once again made eye contact with the Major. "Dr. Heightmeyer is here, I see. Have you talked to her?"

John let go of Teyla's hand and rubbed the back of his neck self consciously, a sheepish expression touching his features. "Uh, yeah. For most of last night." He looked up at the ceiling and fidgeted slightly.

"Ah."

Teyla's voice demanded John's attention, and he once again looked at her, trying to keep the apologetic look from his face. Her understanding expression deepened, and he knew he'd failed.

"I think," Teyla continued, "that is a good thing, Major." She smiled slightly at him.

His gaze narrowed as he felt respect replace apology on his face. One corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile. "Yeah," he admitted quietly, "maybe it is."

Abruptly, his hand reached up, embracing his headset as Peter Grodin's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Unscheduled off-world activation! Dr. Weir to the control room."

John spun, fixing Eilzabeth with an intense look. She stared at him in confusion for a moment before he saw realization dawn on her. Hesitation sprang to her face and John intensified his stare. He was through being left out of the loop. This time, it wasn't anger that drove him, but concern. His expression must've shown that… at least to Heightmeyer. The psychologist caught Elizabeth's arm and nodded slightly when Elizabeth turned towards her.

Elizabeth looked back at John. "Coming, Major?"

John glanced back at Teyla for a moment, before crossing the infirmary to Elizabeth. "Right behind you."

Elizabeth nodded once and exited the infirmary, John and Rodney following behind her.

------------------------------------------

Taking the stairs two at a time, John quickly strode into the command center and made a beeline for the balcony. He stared down at the Stargate, his gaze narrowing at the active shield and the wormhole that shimmered quietly behind it. "Defense team to the Gateroom!" he barked into his radio. He turned around and came up behind Rodney, glancing down at the doctor's laptop. "No one's off world?" He pursed his lips at Rodney's shaking head. "Well, who the hell is that?"

"No clue," Rodney replied.

"Keep the shield up," Elizabeth ordered.

John flashed her a concerned look as she stopped next to him. Once again, he stared at the gate, waiting for the familiar flashes of intruders meeting the Atlantean shield, but they never came. "What the hell is going on?" John's brows furrowed as he once again looked at Rodney.

Never pulling his eyes from his laptop, Rodney again shook his head. "I have no idea. No one has tried to come through, no energy readings, no… nothing."

"Then what…" John's voice trailed off and his hand unconsciously grabbed his headset as static and odd clicking sounds unexpectedly sounded on his radio. He glanced at Elizabeth, whose reaction was the same.

She stared back at him. "Who…?"

John tapped the call button on his radio. "This is Major Sheppard. Identify yourself."

Once again, the radio crackled at him, but this time, it was more than just static.

"Help…us…."

"Who is this?" John demanded, but his question was only met with more static. He shook his head his gaze narrowing as he stared at the gate. Abruptly, he felt a chill shoot through his body as the cold bite of realization dawned on him. He spun. "Elizabeth, there's only one person outside of Atlantis that has our address and a radio."

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment, before her eyes widened in shock. "Malfan?" she whispered. "The Pallans?"

John nodded once, brusquely, before whirling around to face Rodney. "Be ready to lower the shield when I tell you to." He turned towards the stairs, but Elizabeth's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Wait! For all we know, the Wraith could be standing over this man's shoulder and waiting for us to lower the shield!"

John spun and stared incredulously at her. "And what if it's just survivors that need our help? We can't just stand by and do nothing!" He pointed at the assembled defense team that had surrounded the gate. "That's our security. If it's the Wraith, we'll deal with that. If it's not…." John's gaze narrowed. "We have to help them." He stared intently at her, willing Elizabeth to agree with him. They… he couldn't just stand by and do nothing.

Silently, Elizabeth pursed her lips, before nodding once.

John faced Rodney. "Wait until I get down there then lower the shield." Reaching down, he loosened the narrow strap that secured his 9 mil in its holster as he trotted towards the stairs leading to the Gateroom. Adrenaline surged through him as he took the steps two at a time. What if he was wrong? What if the Wraith had found the radio and the address, and this was a trap? John pushed away the questions as one single thought stuck with him. What if it wasn't?

At the bottom of the staircase, he stopped. Setting one leg behind himself for balance, he drew his side arm and aimed it directly at the gate. He pulled one hand away from the gun and gestured briefly at the command deck. A moment later, the shield disengaged. He reached up and tapped the call button on his radio. "This is Major Sheppard. It's safe to come through the gate." He brought his free hand back to cup the bottom of his gun, and waited.

Abruptly a figure emerged through the wormhole, followed by several others. Pulling in a deep breath, John holstered his gun and trotted towards the emerging Pallan survivors. He heard Weir call for a medical team, as relief washed through him. John stopped in his tracks as a familiar man emerged from the small group. "Korban?"

The Pallan healer staggered slightly, and in two quick steps, John was next to him, and offering a supporting hand. "Easy," he reassured.

Korban nodded and steadied himself. "I am… all right."

John looked down as Korban pressed something into his hand. John's gaze narrowed at the radio as pain gripped him. Unwanted images of the destroyed Pallan village… Brianor… her child plagued him.

"Malfan gave that to me… before he went to find Brianor," Korban said quietly. The Pallan man looked back at the wormhole his face full of fear. "Wraith… chasing us…."

At the mention of Wraith, John abruptly pushed away his dark memories and buried them under the intensity of the moment. "Stay sharp!" John snapped loudly at the security detail as he handed support of Korban off to one of Beckett's medics, who were rushing into the Gate room from the west entrance and converging on the Pallan survivors. "Get these people away from the gate as soon as they come through! We may have some uninvited guests!"

John slipped the radio into his pants pocket before he once again pulled his 9 mil and held it firmly at his side. He made eye contact with Stackhouse and gestured towards the right side of the gate. Stackhouse waved two men with him and took a defensive posture adjacent to the gate.

John's attention was drawn again to the gate as a Pallan woman raced through. He ran towards her, his grip tightening on his sidearm as a stun bolt arched through the wormhole and slammed into her back.

Barely more than ten feet from the gate, the woman screamed and crumpled to the ground.

John skidded to a stop and instantly knelt next to the woman, his gun trained on the open Stargate. His gaze narrowed dangerously as two Wraith guards emerged from the wormhole.

Growling loudly, the Wraith immediately fired stunners at anyone within range.

A near-miss stun blast tingled against John's skin as he opened fire on the nearest Wraith, his bullets joined by a swarm of fire from the surrounding security detail. "Raise the shield!" he shouted.

It was over in an instant as the two Wraith slumped to the ground, pierced by more bullets than even they could survive. John pointed his gun at the shielded Stargate, staring intently as four more flashes bounced off the shield before the wormhole disengaged.

John lowered his gun, his chest heaving from surging adrenaline. Bending over the unconscious woman, he pressed his fingers into her carotid artery, nodding slightly as her strong pulse beat steadily against his fingers. He stood and backed away as two medics descended on the unconscious woman. He looked sideways at Stackhouse, who ran up to him.

"Sir? You okay?" Stackhouse's breathing was equally as rapid.

John nodded as he holstered his gun. He gestured at the Wraith. "Fine, Sergeant. Make sure they're dead, then take the bodies to the morgue."

"Yes, sir." Stackhouse nodded once before sharply turning away and issuing orders.

John swung back to the group, watching as the Pallan people milled around, many staring about them in wonder. As he scanned the group, something familiar caught his eye. His gaze narrowed as he stared at a small figure, nearly hidden among the other survivors. He swallowed hard, his rational side unable to deny the hope that sprang to life within him. "Pertus?" His voice held a note of urgency as he walked towards the group. He stopped in his tracks as, one moment, he was looking at an indistinguishable group of people and, the next, Pertus was staring back at him. Relief… happiness… joy… all swept through John, as he swallowed hard, before smiling.

Slowly, he knelt as the boy ran across the distance between them and threw his arms around his neck. He felt himself rock back on his bent leg as the force of Pertus' embrace assaulted his balance. Shocked at first, he wasn't sure what to do, but as the boy's quiet sobs ruffled his hair and echoed in his ears, clarity came to him. Slowly, he reached up and wrapped his arms around the small boy's back, pulling him into a tight embrace. He could feel the trembling and sobs that coursed through Pertus' body, and he tightened his hold. "It's okay, Pertus, you're safe." Soft footsteps caught his attention and John looked up into the understanding eyes of Korban.

"His parents were taken." Korban's soft voice was filled with sorrow. "He has no family left."

John closed his eyes and nodded as he squeezed the boy tightly.

Korban turned away, allowing himself to be guided by a medic.

"Major!"

John looked up as Elizabeth and Rodney trotted towards him. As he held tight to Pertus, John made eye contact with Elizabeth. "His parents are gone." John's voice was barely above a whisper, but by her reaction, he knew she heard him.

Elizabeth's eyes left John's and settled on the back of Pertus' head. "Oh, God," she whispered.

"Damn."

John's eyes followed the path of the second voice and fixed on Rodney. Surprise glimmered through the empathy in John as he stared at Rodney's expression. Never one for tolerance with kids, Rodney's expression held a level of sympathy, mixed with sorrow, that John had never seen in the doctor before.

Abruptly, Rodney's eyes left Pertus and met John's.

For a moment, John saw Rodney for who he was, saw what he felt, before the well-practiced arrogant mask… Rodney's barrier, fell over his expression.

"Yes, well, I need to…" Rodney fidgeted and waved a hand aimlessly across the Gateroom, "go." He hastily turned and made a beeline for the main stairs.

John's attention turned back to Elizabeth, who slowly knelt opposite him. She placed one hand on Pertus' back and rubbed it gently. She looked at John. "What are we going to do with…?" Her voice trailed off as he shook his head.

"I don't know," John whispered.

After a few minutes, the boy's sobs quieted, but his grip on John never wavered. John ran a hand over the back of Pertus' head and continued to hold him. Abruptly, Pertus' embrace broke, as the boy sagged against him. His grip on the boy turned from reassuring to supporting as Pertus went limp. Alarmed, he shifted the boy into his arms.

"Pertus?" Elizabeth grabbed the boy's wrist and, after a short moment, nodded. "He has a pulse."

John scanned Pertus' body, nodding in relief at the rise and fall of his chest. "He's breathing."

Elizabeth looked up, scanning the crowd of people before her eyes settled on the person she was looking for. "Carson!"

The doctor trotted over to them, knelt and pressed his fingers into Pertus' neck.

"He just collapsed," John quietly supplied, his worried gaze never leaving Pertus' unconscious face.

"Aye," Carson replied. "He has a good, strong pulse." Carson took a moment to give both John and Elizabeth reassuring looks. "My guess is exhaustion, but lets get him to the infirmary anyway." He looked around. "I'll find a gurney…."

"I got him," John answered. He shifted Pertus in his one arm and slipped the other under the boy's knees. Slowly, he stood.

"Major?"

_John flashed a quick, half smile at Elizabeth. "It's okay, I got him." He had started towards the exit when Elizabeth's hand on his arm stopped him. He looked at her._

"_Keep me posted," she said quietly._

_John nodded. "Right." Holding the small boy close, he headed for the nearest exit, Carson right behind him._

-------------------------------------------

Halfway to the infirmary, John felt Pertus stir in his arms. He glanced down, giving the boy a reassuring smile, before returning his attention to the crowded hallway.

"Major Sheppard?"

Pertus' voice was shaking, and it was a difficult exercise in control for John not to let pity into his expression. He pulled on as much reassurance as he could find and again smiled at the Pallan boy. "It's okay, Pertus. You're safe here. You're going to be fine, all right?"

Pertus nodded slightly before his grip tightened on John's neck. "The Wraith took my parents," he whispered into John's chest.

John inhaled deeply and tightened his hold on the boy as the infirmary came into view. "I know." John glanced over his shoulder at Carson, who shook his head in sympathy at the boy's words.

As they entered the infirmary, Carson motioned John towards one of the beds. The doctor pulled back the blanket. "Put him here, Major. We'll give him a complete check up and make sure he's okay."

John nodded and gently laid Pertus on the bed, before pulling the blanket over the slightly trembling boy. He turned to go, only to be stopped by Pertus' hand on his wrist.

"You're leaving?" Pertus' eyes widened in uncertainty.

John grabbed Pertus' hand. "You're safe here, Pertus. Dr. Beckett is going to make sure you're okay." John's brows furrowed as the boy shook his head slowly.

"Please… do not leave me…." Fearful tears filled Pertus's eyes as he stared imploringly at John.

John glanced at Carson, who raised both eyebrows at him and nodded slightly. John sighed and nodded back, before he reached behind him and snagged a stool. Pulling it up next to Pertus' bed, he slowly sat down. "I'm not going anywhere, Pertus." He tried to let go of Pertus' hand, but the boy's grip tightened, refusing to relinquish his hold.

Even while Carson examined the boy, and after he pronounced him exhausted but fine, Pertus never slackened his grip of John's hand. And John, suddenly contented, never tried to get away from the boy.

Before long, John found himself alone with Pertus, who was vainly fighting his exhaustion. More than once, the boy's eyes would close, only to spring open a moment later.

John smiled tolerantly. "It's okay, Pertus. Go to sleep, you're safe here." Keenly aware of the small hand gripping his, John thought for a moment. His expression turned reassuring. "I won't leave," he added.

Again, Pertus' eyelids drooped, before they snapped open once more. "Pr… promise?" he mumbled around a yawn.

"Promise."

John watched the boy's breathing turn deep and regular as Pertus finally surrendered to a deep sleep.

Gently pulling his hand from Pertus', John leaned back against a nearby column and put his feet up on the edge of the boy's bed. Shifting his weight, he felt the forgotten radio in his pants pocket dig into his thigh. Slowly, he pulled it out and stared blankly at it. Turning the radio over in his hands, his mind raced through painful memories of the destroyed world… the murdered people… Brianor and her child. He closed his eyes as his imagination took over. Korban had said Malfan had given the radio to him before returning to the village to search for his daughter and grandson, knowing full well that, with the radio, most of the Pallans had a chance to reach the gate, contact Atlantis… to get help.

John shook his head slowly. He'd told them he'd be there if they ever needed help, yet he hadn't been. He opened his eyes and set the radio on a nearby instrument table.

He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared down at the sleeping boy, his thoughts turning to Pertus' plight. Even in sleep, pain was etched on Pertus' face; a pain John could recognize instantly… he'd seen the same lines on his own face only that morning. Cynically, he shook his head. His own life was a mess right now, without having a frightened boy latch onto him. "Why me?" he muttered quietly.

"Because he trusts you, Major."

Startled, John turned his head towards a nearby bed, and looked directly into the wise expression of an older Athosian man. A thick bandage circled the man's head, but his eyes were bright and alert.

The man smiled and turned a sympathetic gaze towards the sleeping boy. "He has lost everything he knows. His family, his world. He needs something familiar, something to hold onto… something safe," the man's knowing gaze returned to John, "and he has picked you for that role, Major."

John's gaze narrowed. "Do I know you?"

The man smiled wider and shook his head. "I imagine not. When I heard Dr. Beckett call you Major, I assumed you were the Major Sheppard that Teyla has told me about." He touched his mouth briefly before sweeping his hand outward in greeting. "Kelin." Palm facing upward, he extended his arm towards John.

John pulled his feet off the bed and rolled his stool over to Kelin's bed. He grasped Kelin's forearm in greeting, as Teyla had shown him. "Major John Sheppard. But you already knew that." John's gaze narrowed as he sifted through his memories. "The Athosian hunter that was injured near the Ancient Outpost?"

Kelin nodded once. "Yes. Were it not for Teyla and your people, I certainly would have died."

Darkness crossed John's expression. He'd been excluded from that… left behind, not allowed to do anything... ."Just glad we could help." His voice was tinged with cynicism, and he noticed it wasn't lost on Kelin. John changed the subject. "How did you know about Pertus?"

Kelin smiled wisely. "Carolyn Lansing told me while Dr. Beckett was examining the boy."

John's gaze drifted back to Pertus. He shook his head and sighed. "Poor kid," he muttered.

"Yes," Kelin agreed. "He will need your help, Major, in the days to come."

John dropped his head, his thoughtful expression turning insecure as he unconsciously pursed his lips. He inhaled deeply and tried to appear confident next to a near stranger. "Yeah." His agreement was indifferent at best, and John could feel Kelin's penetrating gaze.

"You do not like children?" Kelin ventured.

"Me?" John's eyes widened in surprise. "No, I like kids. …I mean I'm not around them all the time, but when I am I like them… usually…." John sighed, his expression turning bemused as he arched an eyebrow at Kelin, before smiling. "I'm really not a babbling idiot."

Kelin laughed out loud and shook his head. "I believe you, Major, for Teyla would not have suffered you so well otherwise."

John grinned in response. "True."

Kelin's smile faded as his expression once more turned thoughtful. "Then what is it, Major? What about the boy brings you unease?"

John's smile disappeared. Uncomfortable with the Athosian's insightful gaze, he quickly looked away. His thoughts raced, but he hardly knew Kelin, and every word was squelched, ironically, by strength… the need to put on a strong face and stand as an unwavering leader. His gaze latched onto Pertus and he endured the long silence that followed Kelin's question.

After a long minute, Kelin's sigh broke the silence. "I am sorry, Major. It is not my place to pry into your affairs."

John swallowed hard and glanced at Kelin. While the older man's words had been acquiescent, his gaze was not. Perception burned in the brown depths of his eyes as he stared back hard at John. In many ways, Kelin reminded John of Malfan, and that realization stabbed him in the gut. He looked away. "It's okay." The hollow statement wasn't lost on Kelin, who nodded silently.

John chanced a glance at Kelin, who had settled back in his bed.

"Strength comes in many forms, Major. Strength of character, of self, and of friends, to name a few. True strength is to recognize and use all of them."

The sudden need for space smothered any words John had. He silently rolled his stool away from Kelin's bed and back to Pertus, never once looking back at Kelin's intuitive gaze.

-----------------------------

"Dr Weir?"

Elizabeth looked up from her desk and smiled at Carson and Kate Heightmeyer, who stood in her doorway. "Doctors, please, come in." She set down her data pad and leaned back in her chair, her smile ready for both of them. "How are the Pallan survivors?"

Carson sighed and smiled slightly. "For the most part good. Lots of minor injuries, exhaustion, some mild dehydration, but nothing serious. Most can be released now, with the rest being able to leave the infirmary in a day or so." His smile faded. "They can't exactly go back to Palla though. From what I've pieced together from different refugees, their world is pretty much destroyed. It'll be at least a season, probably two, before they could even consider returning and rebuilding."

Elizabeth sighed, before a slight smile turned up one side of her mouth. "I thought as much, so I talked with Halling. The Pallans are welcome to live with the Athosians on the mainland. After seeing some of the crops we traded for, Halling is very interested in learning some of their farming methods, and I'm sure there are things the Pallans can learn from the Athosians. It should work well for both of them. Halling believes Teyla will agree, but I'll confirm that with her once she's released from your care, Carson."

Carson nodded. "Aye. That should be soon. She's doing very well. And I can't see why she'd disagree with your idea. She and her father had a long history with the Pallans. Besides, they're farmers. The mainland is perfect."

"That's exactly what most of them need," Heightmeyer agreed. "The sooner they can return to some sort of normal life, the better." She sighed. "My only concern is the boy."

Elizabeth's gaze narrowed. "Pertus?"

"Yes," Heightmeyer answered. "He's very fragile, emotionally, right now. He saw his home destroyed and his parents taken by the Wraith right before his eyes."

"Hard enough for an adult to handle," Carson added. "Kids are resilient with trauma like this, but…." His voice trailed off.

"He needs some stability." Heightmeyer's expression turned thoughtful. "And that might not be so bad…." Her worsd tailed off as, preoccupied, she sat back in her chair.

Elizabeth watched the psychologist for a moment before speaking. "Doctor?"

Heightmeyer stood, pushed both hands into her pants' pockets, and slowly paced the office. "Like the other Pallans, Pertus needs to get back to what he knows as a normal life as quickly as possible, but he also needs some stability. He needs someone near him he can trust, and the knowledge that they're there for him." Heightmeyer stopped and faced Elizabeth. "He seems to have chosen Major Sheppard for that role."

"Aye," Carson agreed. "And in a day and a half, the Major has barely left the infirmary. Pertus made him promise he'd be there, and the Major has lived up to it."

Elizabeth sat back in her chair, her mind racing. "Just what are you two suggesting?"

Heightmeyer slowly walked back to her chair and sat down. She leaned forward and rested her arms on her knees as she stared intently at Elizabeth. "Before I did my work in couples therapy, I spent a lot of time counseling firefighters and paramedics who suffered through tragic events on the job. Some of the things they witnessed…" Heightmeyer's voice trailed off as she shook her head slightly.

Elizabeth nodded. "I read your file. You spent some time in New York after 9-11."

Heightmeyer nodded. "Yes, but most of my experience was a few years before that. What we found, in many cases, was the very nature of their jobs, and the closeness they felt to them, hindered their recovery."

Confused, Elizabeth glanced at Carson's intrigued expression before looking back to Heightmeyer. "I'm not sure I'm following you."

"They didn't have an outlet," Heightmeyer continued. "The very nature of the Major's job is stressful. Normally, he can handle that without too much trouble. He's proved that. But throw in his ordeal on the Wraith ship, which was, to say the least, traumatic and not normal, and his psyche is having a hard time managing that on top of the stress his position already gives him."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I relieved him from duty, though." 

"Aye, but he was still here." Carson replied.

Heighmeyer nodded. "Carson is right. Even off duty, Major Sheppard is still here. Still on Atlantis, still, in many ways, in the loop, no matter how hard we try to take him out of it. The very fact that we were trying to protect him, shield him from what was going on, probably exacerbated his condition. He made his frustration and anger very plain to me in more than one session." She paused and stared intently at Elizabeth. "Major Sheppard needs time away from Atlantis. He needs to be completely removed from everything about Atlantis for a while."

"He needs a vacation," Carson added quietly.

Heightmeyer arched her brows. "Essentially, yes. He needs an outlet for his frustration, his anger and everything that is affecting him. He needs to work through it, and he can't when he's constantly reminded of his job at every turn. He needs to stop being Major Sheppard and just be John Sheppard for a while."

Elizabeth silently stood up and walked over to her bookcase, her mind racing. She carefully picked up one of her remaining Athosian vases and traced a finger over the deep blue surface. Her thoughts drifted back to the day John had smashed its counterpart… to the day he'd pulled a gun on her… to the day he'd almost killed Teyla. She set down the vase and faced Heightmeyer. "Do you think everything that's happened, that he's done, is related to this?"

"You mean the incident with Teyla?" Heightmeyer asked.

"And others, yes," Elizabeth nodded.

"Definitely." Heightmeyer's reply was confident. "He has no outlet, no way to get away. Sooner or later, he was going to take that out on someone. He had to. Teyla just happened to be that person. It could've been anyone, for any reason."

Elizabeth pursed her lips in worry. She glanced at Carson before looking back at Heightmeyer. "And you think this is the best thing for him?"

"I do." Heightmeyer sighed. "I'm not willing to relinquish him as a patient, but I don't think I can help him as long as he's here." She pointed down at the floor in emphasis. "If he goes, I want to make regular visits to the mainland to talk to him. But I'll want to check in with some of the Pallans, like Pertus, anyway."

"I'm not sure I like turning him loose on the mainland right now." Elizabeth shook her head in concern.

"We could ask the Athosians to keep an eye on him," Carson suggested quietly. "Kelin will be ready to be released by the time the Pallans are organized and ready to go to the Mainland. He's a levelheaded, sensible man, whom Teyla respects deeply. That's good enough for me. Maybe he would be willing to help keep an eye on the Major?"

Elizabeth sighed as she once again looked at Heightmeyer. "Are you sure he's the best thing for Pertus right now?"

Heightmeyer rubbed the bridge of her nose. "No, I'm not. But, we don't really have a say here. It would be far worse for Pertus for us to remove the stabilizing factor from his life, and that stabilizing factor, right now, is Major Sheppard." Heightmeyer smiled slightly. "Maybe Pertus is just the distraction the Major needs. Something for him to focus on besides Atlantis and being Major Sheppard."

Elizabeth stared at the imploring expressions of both Carson and Heightmeyer. "I'd be lying if I told you I felt good about this course of action. It seems to me that what John needs most is the support of the people that care about him."

Heightmeyer nodded slowly. "It's not an easy decision to make, Dr. Weir, but neither is a family's decision to place a loved one in drug rehab. Or to face an alcoholic with intervention. Sometimes the best thing for the ones we care about isn't the easiest." She fixed Elizabeth with an intuitive gaze. "Nor is it the easiest decision for our own interests."

A retort died on Elizabeth's lips as Heightmeyer's words sunk in. John's strength was an anchor for Elizabeth's leadership; it had been ever since they'd arrived in Pegasus. Somehow the thought of sending him away, even for a short time, left her feeling insecure. John might not have been that beacon of strength ever since his ordeal, but just the thought that he was there, on Atlantis, held its own level of comfort for her. Heightmeyer's words were a dose of reality that Elizabeth was loath to accept, but her strength of character would not let her do otherwise.

She turned the problem over and over in her head, before finally resigning herself to the doctor's advice. Elizabeth had once mused that she wasn't sure she was the one to help John, and now it seemed that her wayward thought was right.

Elizabeth gave a knowing gaze first to Heightmeyer, then to Carson, both of whom wordlessly returned the expression. Elizabeth nodded once. "I want to tell him."

"Of course," Heightmeyer agreed. "Just lay it out for him. He may not completely understand right now, but eventually he will."

Elizabeth nodded. "Carson? When you release Teyla, will you tell her I would like to talk to her?"

Carson smiled. "Aye. I'll probably let her go later today."

Elizabeth nodded silently as both doctors left her office. She walked around her desk and stared at the Stargate. Torn, she felt like she was abandoning John just when he needed her the most. Guilt swarmed through her, but Heightmeyer's words stifled it. _Sometimes, doing the best thing for the ones you care about isn't always the easiest._

-----------------------

Slowly standing, John stretched hard and shook his stiff legs, before he walked across the infirmary, his eyes locked on the small cart that once served as a makeshift coffee bar. He sighed. It had been a couple months since they ran out of coffee, and while the strong Athosian tea Teyla had introduced the team to was robust, he still missed straight, black coffee. Some times the lack of coffee was worse than others, and after barely leaving Pertus' side in the last 24 hours, today was definitely one of them.

He poured himself a cup of hot Athosian tea and turned around. Leaning against a nearby column, he stared across the infirmary at the sleeping boy. He sighed. Why was he doing this anyway? Grimacing, he shook his head, as thoughts of the last two months raced through him. Unconsciously, his gaze drifted to Teyla's bed, and his brows lifted in surprise.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, fully clothed, Teyla was nodding, apparently at Carson's quiet instructions. As Carson walked away, Teyla met gazes with John, smiled and inclined her head slightly.

His fingers still wrapped around his hot mug of tea, John crossed the infirmary and smiled at her. "Carson released you?"

Teyla nodded. "Yes, I am to remain off duty for a few more days, but Dr. Beckett sees no reason why he cannot release me, as long as I do not exert myself."

John felt a wave of relief surge through him as his smile widened slightly. "That's great." His smile faded as his gaze settled on the small line of stitches that closely followed her hairline. He looked away, abruptly avoiding her sensitive gaze.

"Major, you must let go of what has happened."

His head still turned slightly away, John's eyes still found hers for a moment. He sighed. "Teyla, I…."

"Major," Teyla interrupted, "do not give it any further thought."

Unconvinced, John nodded once. One corner of his mouth turned up in a halfhearted smile. "Take it easy, Teyla, that's an order." He turned away. 

"Major?"

Stopped by Teyla's words, he turned back, his brows arching slightly. "Yeah?" 

She slid off her bed and walked over to him. "There is one thing you can do for me."

John nodded. "Name it." Uncertainty grew within him as she held onto the silence between them for a long moment.

Her expression sober, she locked gazes with him. "Allow those around you to help you, Major."

John unconsciously stepped back… away from her knowing request. Words escaped him as he nodded once, curtly. He turned away, his quick steps taking him back to Pertus' side. He heard Teyla leave the infirmary, but never once did he look back at her.

---------------------------------

"Dr. Weir?"

Elizabeth paused in the long hallway, and turned towards the voice that hailed her. She smiled, watching as Teyla wove through people and came up next to her. "Teyla. It's good to see you up and around."

Teyla returned the smile and nodded once. "Thank you. I am feeling much stronger. Dr. Beckett thinks I will be able to return to duty in a few days."

Elizabeth nodded. "That's good to hear." She started down the hallway towards the command deck, Teyla falling in next to her.

"Dr. Beckett said you wished to speak to me?" Teyla questioned.

Glancing sideways at her walking companion, Elizabeth nodded slightly. "Yes. I spoke with Halling today about the Pallans. From what we can piece together, and from what you saw on Palla, it seems their world is pretty much destroyed. They can't really go back there, so I asked Halling what he thought about them joining your people on the mainland." She glanced at Teyla, who nodded thoughtfully. "So," Elizabeth went on, "Halling thought your people could learn some farming techniques from the Pallans, and liked the idea, but wanted me to talk to you first."

Teyla smiled. "I believe it is an excellent idea. The Pallans are good people, hard workers and excellent farmers. Both our peoples will benefit from the relationship."

Elizabeth smiled, sighing lightly. "Good." Her expression turned pensive as she looked away from Teyla. Prolonging the silence between them, Elizabeth continued walking, keenly aware that Teyla was still with her. Her thoughts passed over John and his recovery. Guilt fleeted through her again as she pondered Heightmeyer's suggestion.

"Dr. Weir?" Teyla questioned after a long silent minute. "Was there something else you need from me?"

Elizabeth stopped, faced Teyla, and smiled slightly. "You know Kelin well."

Teyla arched an eyebrow. "Yes. I have known him since I was a girl." Teyla's observant gaze narrowed. "He is a good man."

Elizabeth nodded, her own thoughts stealing her voice. After a moment, she looked back at Teyla, meeting her questioning gaze with a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry. I'm being very cryptic, aren't I?"

Teyla smiled. "Is there something you need of Kelin, Dr. Weir?"

Elizabeth's eyes darted around the busy hallway before fixing on a set of large, double doors. "Come on," she smiled at Teyla. "I have a favor to ask, but not here." She crossed to the doors and stepped through them as they parted before her. Walking out onto the spacious, outdoor balcony, she crossed to the railing and stopped, taking a moment to let the soft ocean breeze caress her face. She turned and again smiled at Teyla.

Teyla returned the expression. "What is it you need, Dr. Weir?"

Elizabeth's smile faded as she looked out over the ocean. "Help with Major Sheppard," she replied quietly. "Drs Beckett and Heightmeyer came by my office this morning." She glanced sideways as Teyla silently stepped forward and also rested her hands on the railing.

Her expression thoughtful, Teyla nodded slowly. "I have given much thought to the Major lately. He is strong and proud… perhaps too proud. He has a hard time recognizing he needs help, or asking for it, even if he admits it."

Despite the situation, Elizabeth smiled. "Rodney say's he's stubborn."

To this, Teyla arched her eyebrows. "I do not believe that is the only reason, Dr. Weir, although Major Sheppard can be very… tenacious." Teyla leaned on her forearms and stared out over the ocean. "Lieutenant Ford has told me much about the Major's military history. It is… colorful to say the least."

Elizabeth chuckled slightly. "He's an unorthodox officer for sure, and it's got him into trouble more than once."

"Yes," Teyla nodded. "The Major is used to doing things on his own, handling things on his own, and not asking for help. It is… unfamiliar to him to need someone's help, especially with something so personal. In what I have seen, he is also a very private person, Dr. Weir. For all of his outgoing friendliness, he holds his privacy very dearly. We cannot expect him to come out and ask for help, but must guide him to see that he needs it."

Elizabeth's expression turned first thoughtful then filled with respect at Teyla's observant take on Major Sheppard. She thought about all the times she'd asked… almost begged John to get help, only to watch him instantly put up a defensive wall against her suggestion. "You're right," she agreed quietly.

Teyla smiled. "I assume this has something to do with your interest in Kelin?"

Elizabeth chuckled quietly before her smile faded. "Yes. Dr. Heightmeyer believes that the best thing for the Pallans right now is to get back into a sense of a normal life as soon as they can. Including Pertus." She looked away, hesitation filling her. "But, Pertus has latched onto Major Sheppard, and, right now, we're hesitant to break that bond. Besides a sense of normal life, Pertus needs a stable figure in his life, someone he feels safe and secure with." Shaking her head slightly, she continued. "He seems to have chosen Major Sheppard for that."

Teyla nodded. "I see." She slowly looked over at Elizabeth and their eyes met. "You wish to send Major Sheppard to the mainland with Pertus?"

"Only temporarily," Elizabeth quickly answered. "Dr. Heightmeyer thinks that John needs to get completely away from Atlantis and his position here, in order to sort his life out and work through his own problems." She swallowed against her apprehension, as Teyla's gaze deepened, her dark eyes searching. Elizabeth looked away.

"You do not agree."

Teyla's words were confident, not questioning, but Elizabeth shook her head anyway. "No, I do. John needs to get away from here, at least for a little while."

"Ah, I see."

Elizabeth turned and faced Teyla. "See what?" She cocked her head slightly.

Teyla stared evenly back at her. She was silent for a moment as she carefully chose her words. "We are both leaders of our people, Dr. Weir. The burden of leadership is often times a lonely weight to bear." Teyla's gaze returned to the ocean. "We cannot always do it alone." She sighed deeply. "Even people such as you and I need the support of those around us, at least sometimes." Her gaze never left the distant horizon. "Sending Major Sheppard to the mainland cannot be easy for you."

Elizabeth pursed her lips and glanced at Teyla. Her instant reaction was to deny Teyla's statement, but she paused. As a strong leader of her people, Teyla represented a kinship that Elizabeth had never realized… until now. That realization opened doors and crossed barriers she had long held onto. She sighed. "I never realized how much I relied on his support… until it wasn't there anymore." She shook her head at the irony. "And here I thought I was a strong leader."

Teyla slowly turned her head and stared at her. "A tree is stronger for the ground that supports it." She smiled at Elizabeth's questioning look. "It is something that my father told me." A hint of sadness crossed Teyla's expression, but she continued. "Major Sheppard is his own person, and he does not always agree with you, but he supports you, Dr. Weir, and you are stronger for it." Teyla inhaled deeply. "I believe it is natural for you to be… reluctant to give up that support."

Elizabeth tore her eyes from Teyla and turned away, blinking hard. She slowly walked across the balcony as her mind raced, trying to process everything Teyla had said. She was loath to give up his strength… his support, but Elizabeth also realized that, at this moment, he had neither to spare for her. And, beyond being his friend, Elizabeth suddenly felt she owed it to him. For everything he'd done for her, she owed him the chance, for once, to do what was best for him.

She sighed loudly and turned back to face Teyla, who was once again staring out at the ocean. She slowly walked back to stand next to her,. A wry, half smile pulled at one corner of Elizabeth's mouth. "Who's your support, Teyla?"

A small smile graced Teyla's face. "There are a few, but mostly Charin. She is as a grandmother to me." Teyla's smile widened slightly. "I have a feeling Major Sheppard will meet her soon enough."

Elizabeth nodded. "Carson mentioned her. 'Charming', I believe he called her." Elizabeth was quiet a moment, before she continued, her soft voice resigned. "I hope we're doing the right thing."

Teyla's smile was reassuring as she glanced at Elizabeth. "I believe that you are." Teyla again fixed her gaze on the ocean. "Long have my people lived as nomads, Dr. Weir. Our ancestors built great cities and explored the stars with the Ancients. But for all their technology, their lives were much more complicated than ours are now." Teyla pulled in a deep breath. "For all of its wonders, life on Atlantis is difficult, especially for one in a position of leadership, such as yourself… or Major Sheppard. Even I, as the leader of my people, feel the stresses of life here. Fighting the Wraith, struggling to understand the Ancestors… trying to do what is best for my people." Teyla dropped her head. "There are times, Dr. Weir, when I long for the simple ways of my people. My warm tent, my friends around me, the feel of fresh-tilled earth under my hands, the thrill of the hunt." Teyla smiled and glanced at Weir. "Even just a few days with my people refreshes me. Helps me see the simple joys of life… helps me find myself." Her smiled faded, replaced by a look of genuine sincerity. "I believe that Major Sheppard has lost who he is and, as long as he is here, on Atlantis, involved in his complicated and stressful life of being in command, he will never find himself."

Stunned, at Teyla's admission and her intuition, Elizabeth could only nod slightly. She leaned on her forearms, laced her fingers together and dropped her head, her thoughts racing. "I thought relieving him of duty would've helped that."

Teyla nodded thoughtfully. "Whether or not Major Sheppard is acting as a leader, he is one. It is not something he can stop doing. It is part of who Major Sheppard is, and, while it is a large part of him, it is not everything. He has not lost the Major part of himself, he has lost John."

Elizabeth sighed deeply, Heightmeyer's words echoing within her.

_He needs to stop being Major Sheppard, and just be John Sheppard for a while..._

Teyla must have seen the apprehension in Elizabeth's face, for all of a sudden, Elizabeth felt a warm grip on her forearm.

"Once he finds himself, Dr. Weir, he can be who we know he is again. But he cannot find himself here." The touch was brief, as Teyla backed a step away from Elizabeth. She smiled and held the silence for a moment, before continuing, "I will speak with Kelin. I am sure he would be willing to help monitor Major Sheppard. Kelin is… wise. The Major will not feel as though he is being… I believe the word is babysat?"

Elizabeth smiled and inhaled deeply. "Yes, that's the term. I doubt John would be agreeable if he thought we were mothering him."

Teyla smiled. "Yes, I agree." Her smile turned reflective. "Perhaps Kelin can help the Major. As I said, he is very wise." Teyla looked away. "When my father was taken, Kelin fostered me for a while. He was very… influential on me. Perhaps he can help the Major in the same way…" Teyla's voice trailed off as her gaze unfocused in thoughtfulness.

"Part of your strength?" Elizabeth asked quietly.

Teyla stared uncomprehending at Elizabeth for a moment before she nodded. "Yes, Kelin is."

Elizabeth suppressed a smile as an almost cunning look suddenly stole over Teyla's expression.

The Athosian woman pushed away from the railing. "I must speak with Kelin. Do not worry, Dr. Weir, we will watch out for the Major."

Elizabeth smiled and nodded once. "Thank you, Teyla." She let her gaze follow the vast ocean into the horizon as Teyla's footsteps retreated away.

"Dr. Weir?"

Elizabeth turned, Teyla's distant voice grabbing her attention. At the doorway, Teyla had stopped and was looking at her. "Yes?" Even from a distance, Elizabeth could see Teyla nod once.

"You have made the right choice."

More sure of herself, Elizabeth nodded silently and watched Teyla disappear through the doorway.

She once again let her gaze wander over the ocean. From deep within her, she pulled on a well of strength as she steeled herself to live with her decision… to accept what was best for John, and to allow him the chance to heal himself. Her gaze narrowed, strength flowing through her as she pushed away from the railing. Silently, Elizabeth returned inside Atlantis.

---------------------------

_John looked up, hatefully glaring at Fred. "Leave him alone!" His gaze switched to the female, who hissed and slammed her palm into Cooper's chest. "NO!" John shouted. Panic gripped him as suddenly, in Cooper's place, Brianor appeared._

"_John! Help me! Please!" Brianor's voice was filled with terror and pain._

"_NO! Brianor!" John pulled vainly against the Wraith guard who held fast to him. _

"_John…," Brianor's voice trailed off as her eyes slid shut._

"_Brianor!" John closed his eyes against the image and averted his head. _

"_John, help."_

_John's eyes snapped open as a deep familiar voice pled to him. He looked up, eyes widening. Where Brianor had been a moment before, his father now knelt. "Dad?" John watched as Fred circled Marcus Sheppard and stood in front of the kneeling man. Quicker than John could react, Fred grabbed his father and fed upon him. _

"_NO! Dad!" John's voice cracked in horror._

"_John! Help!"_

Never had John ever heard panic in his father's voice… until now. "Dad!" 

"_John!"_

"_Dad… Father!"_

"_Father!"_

John's eyes snapped open, his feet flying off the edge of Pertus' bed as he bolted out of his chair. Disoriented, he blinked hard and looked around as he struggled to pull his mind back to reality. 

"Father!"

John's gaze turned to the bed, and a weakly thrashing Pertus. 

"Pertus?" John bent over the sleeping boy's bed. "Pertus, wake up."

"Father… Father NO!" Pertus' thrashing grew more intense, and John grabbed the boy's shoulders and shook him gently but insistently.

"Pertus! Wake up! Pertus!" John raised his voice slightly.

Abruptly, Pertus' eyes flew open. "Father!" he shouted. Confused, he looked around before staring straight into John's eyes.

His hands never leaving Pertus' shoulders, John lowered his voice. "Take it easy, it's okay." 

Pertus hands flew out from under the blanket and grabbed John's shirt.

Surprised, John steadied himself as the boy pulled himself out of the bed and latched onto John, his small arms wrapping tightly around John's back. John gently returned the embrace.

"I saw them," Pertus' voice was muffled. "The light that took father and mother. It passed over them, and they disappeared."

Compassion softened John's expression. Discomfort weaseled its way into his thoughts, as his mind fumbled over what to do. In the end, he settled for returning the boy's embrace, and that seemed to suit Pertus just fine. "You're safe now, Pertus," John reassured. "No one is going to hurt you here." John glanced up as Carson suddenly appeared from behind the privacy shield, his expression anxious.

"Is everything okay?" Carson's gaze flicked from John to Pertus.

John nodded. "Pertus had a nightmare." John's own nightmare haunted him, but he pushed it away. He looked back down at the boy and forced a reassuring smile.

"Okay." Carson's response was reserved. "Let me know if ye need anything."

Once again, John glanced at Carson. "Thanks Doc." He smiled at the boy. "It's okay, Pertus, go back to sleep."

Fear began to flee from Pertus' eyes as drowsiness once again set in. "Do not leave me?" he questioned quietly.

John smiled. "Not a chance. Go to sleep, Pertus." He slowly lowered the boy back onto the bed and watched as Pertus' eyelids grew heavy, before finally shutting and staying closed.

For a long while, John stood there, watching the boy sleep. His own nightmare plagued him and he felt a kinship with Pertus because of it. He came to realize that he knew Pertus' pain, knew what the memories did to him, and knew what the young boy was feeling. Setting Pertus' hand gently on the bed, John backed away, but his feet didn't take him far. Grabbing the stool, John eased into it, his eyes never leaving Pertus' sleeping face.

---------------------------------

Teyla stopped in the doorway of the infirmary, her gaze unconsciously settling on the sleeping form of Pertus. Her eyes narrowed slightly at the absence of Major Sheppard, before she again stared at the sleeping boy. Sorrow gripped her heart for a moment, and she closed her eyes against it. She felt the pain she knew was in Pertus. Akin to him in many ways, she knew the sorrow of losing family to the Wraith. In her lifetime, she had seen, first her mother, then later her father taken. She keenly knew the difficult road ahead for Pertus and, deep inside her, her hatred for the Wraith intensified. Though well masked by careful and long practiced discipline, her spite for the Wraith still burned hotly. John and his people might feel hatred for the Wraith, but Teyla knew it could never be at the level she and the peoples of the Pegasus Galaxy had. To lose friends, teammates, acquaintances, was hard, but to lose family and loved ones over and over for centuries created a level of hate, anger and frustration she knew the expedition team had yet to reach. Silently, she prayed they never would.

Her thoughts lingered on John and she hesitated to include him in that category. Unlike the others, his experiences had brought the Major to a more intense loathing than any of the others. His recent problems dealing with it were a testament to that. Her thoughts coming full circle to the reason she was there in the first place, Teyla turned her attention back to the task at hand. Pushing away her dark feelings, she walked across the large room, smiling slightly at Carson as he noticed her approach.

"Teyla, love, how are you feeling?" his eyes scanned the stitches at her hairline.

Teyla nodded. "I am fine, thank you, Dr Beckett." She looked around. "I am surprised that Major Sheppard is not here. Where is he?"

"Ah, that one," Carson shook his head. "I sent him away for a shower and a hot meal." His brows quirked. "Threw him out of my infirmary is more like it. He didn't want to leave Pertus alone." His expression turned thoughtful. "At first, he was pretty uncomfortable with the boy, but lately?" Carson shrugged. He inhaled deeply. "What can I do for ye, lass?"

Teyla was inwardly pleased with her timing. Now she would not have to find a way to speak with Kelin without the Major hearing. "I have come to see Kelin. How is he?"

Carson shook his head, his expression admiring. "That one? His constitution and his recovery are amazing. He'll be ready to be released before too long."

Relief touched Teyla's face. "That is good to hear. Thank you, Dr Beckett." She nodded respectfully.

"My pleasure, love." Carson's grin widened, revealing his dimples.

Teyla turned, making her way to Kelin's bed. She passed Pertus and hesitated. She watched the sleeping boy for a moment, before continuing on. Smiling, she nodded at the Athosian elder. "Kelin."

Kelin's warm expression was genuine as he gestured to a low chair next to his bed. "Teyla. It warms my heart to see you well after your ordeal."

She sat down, a smile still lingering on her face. "And you, Kelin. We were very worried for a while."

Kelin arched an eyebrow, his look turning thoughtful. "It was not my time, yet."

Teyla inhaled deeply and nodded. She looked away, hesitation coming over her. She was not surprised when Kelin questioned her, for she never expected her hesitation to go unnoticed by him.

"Teyla? What troubles you?" Kelin asked gently.

Teyla sighed. "I… I must ask you a favor, Kelin, but it is a large one." She looked up, arching an eyebrow at Kelin's expression, which turned slightly amused.

"Teyla Emmagan, for you, no favor is too great." Kelin smiled fondly.

She found strength in Kelin's demeanor. "Have you met Major Sheppard yet?"

Kelin's gaze narrowed and turned reflective. "Yes. I can see why you respect him, but…" Kelin's voice trailed off.

Her brows furrowed. "Kelin?"

Kelin shook his head slightly. "He is greatly troubled."

"Yes," Teyla nodded, "he is. That is why I am here."

Kelin's eyes narrowed in a fatherly fashion. "Speak plainly, Teyla," he chastised lightly.

She blushed slightly before nodding. "Very well. I am sure you have noticed that Pertus has grown rather attached to Major Sheppard." At Kelin's affirmative nod, she went on, "Pertus is to go to the mainland with the other Pallans, and Dr. Heightmeyer not only wishes for Major Sheppard to continue to be there for Pertus, but she believes that it also could benefit the Major greatly." She paused for a moment, before continuing. "I am inclined to agree."

"I see." Kelin's nod was thoughtful. "And you wish for me to watch out for him, without him really knowing it?"

Teyla smiled warmly. "Yes, but there is more."

"More?" Kelin arched his brows at her.

She gently took Kelin's hand. "When my father was taken, I was… lost. Your guidance, your… wisdom, helped me find my path, Kelin. I would ask that you try to do the same for Major Sheppard." She couldn't make eye contact with him. Her request was great, and well she knew it.

"Teyla."

She heard his voice, felt his hand tighten in hers, but still she could not look at him.

"Teyla Emmagan, look at me."

Slowly looking up, she was relieved to see understanding, not offense, in Kelin's eyes.

"Major Sheppard must mean a great deal to you, to ask such a thing," Kelin observed.

She smiled in return. "It is not as you think, Kelin." She looked away, searching for the right words. "From the first time we met, the Major treated me as an equal, and with respect. He is a good man, and I would see him as himself again. I believe our people, our way of life… you… can help him."

Kelin patted her knuckles reassuringly. "I have only met him once, but I see in him what you say. He is an honorable man… and he is deeply troubled."

Relieved, she could only nod. She looked up at Kelin as his voice took on hard note.

"I will warn you, Teyla, I can only help him if he wishes to be helped," he stated plainly.

"I know this," Teyla responded, "but he will not ask for it." She arched an eyebrow as Kelin's gaze softened into a smile.

"Teyla. Just because he cannot ask does not mean he does not want to be helped." Wisdom gleamed in Kelin's eyes. "I can tell the difference."

Gratitude warmed her heart as she nodded slightly. "Thank you, Kelin."

Kelin's smile turned wry. "Do not thank me yet, I have not helped him. But, you are welcome." He sighed. "Has anyone informed the Major of this?"

"No," Teyla shook her head. "Dr. Weir is going to do so. I fear he has reached the point where he does not care."

Kelin arched an eyebrow. "Then we have a long, hard road ahead of us." He shifted slightly in his bed, before pulling his hand from hers and crossing his arms on his lap. "It would be best if I knew the whole story and how Major Sheppard has come to be as he is now."

She nodded. "I will tell you what I know, but no one knows everything. The Major has been somewhat reluctant to tell anyone all that happened to him."

Kelin's expression was unsurprised. "From what you have told me, I would not expect otherwise." He waved a hand at her. "Tell me what you know."

----------------------------

Somehow, Elizabeth found herself back in her office, although her feet must've found the path themselves, for her mind was clearly elsewhere. She stopped in front of her desk and picked up her laptop pad, scanning her calendar. As with practically all the other hours of her day, this hour was booked solid. _I really should meet with these appointments…_ She sighed and shook her head. She was procrastinating over her conversation with John, and she knew it. Bolstered by her conversation with Teyla, she held tightly to her strength as she tapped her radio earpiece and made quick work of contacting her afternoon appointments to postpone them. Touching a few buttons on the screen, Elizabeth quickly cleared her calendar, before gently setting the pad on her desk. Sighing, she again activated her radio.

"Major Sheppard, this is Dr. Weir." Her gaze unconsciously fixed on the chair that sat empty in front of her. _John's chair… _A knot formed in her gut as she leaned back against her desk, waiting for his reply.

"This is Sheppard."

"Major, can you come up to my office, please?" She pursed her lips at the long pause that followed her request.

"Can it wait? I'm headed back to the infirmary."

She shook her head. "No, John, it's important." Another pause, and the knot in her stomach intensified.

"I'm on my way."

Pushing herself away from the desk, Elizabeth slowly walked around its end and stood in front of her chair for a moment. The knots in her stomach turned to nervous butterflies and she took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Not since the Balkan peace treaty she'd negotiated several years ago had she felt so nervous. Had the situation not been so serious, she would've chuckled at it. For all her diplomacy, all her experience dealing with begrudging diplomats and warring countries, one conversation with one Air Force Major set her gut into nervous knots. Sitting slowly, she folded her hands on her desk and waited.

---------------------------------

Quickly taking the steps up to the command deck, John's mind lingered on Pertus. Alone, frightened… John shook his head. All he wanted was to be there for the boy, but that single-minded emotion confused him. His own head was a mess right now… a realization that was only just starting to make any sense to him. How could he do anything… be anything to the boy right now? Yet John had seen the pain in Pertus' eyes, the longing… the fear, and through all the death he'd experienced, John felt an overwhelming urge to help the boy, however he could.

His mind stuck on Pertus, John barely noticed the resigned expression on Elizabeth's face. "You, uh, wanted to talk to me?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Have a seat, John."

"Okay," John entered the room and eased into a chair. Resting his elbows on the armrests, he laced his fingers together and stared evenly at her. "What's going on?"

Her smile was strained. "How's Pertus?"

John arched his brows, his forehead wrinkling in response. "With what he's been through, okay, I guess." He sighed. "Look, I should be back down there with him, so, whatever it is you need to talk to me about, lets talk about it." When she broke gazes with him, his eyes flicked to her folded hands, where he saw her knuckles whiten under her grip, apparently in response to his words. "Elizabeth?" He prompted, a note of worry working into his voice.

She pulled in a deep breath and looked up at him, her expression resolute. "Halling and the Athosians have agreed to the Pallans living on the mainland with them."

John nodded slowly. "That's good…." He let his voice trail off.

"As soon as they all have a clean bill of health, we're going to ferry them over to the Athosian settlement. That should be in the next day or so."

"I'll organize pilots." John leaned forward and started to stand, but his actions were halted by her raised hand. 

"There's more, John."

He slowly settled back into his chair and sighed. "What is it you need to tell me that you don't want to tell me?"

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Dr. Heightmeyer thinks Pertus should join his people on the mainland also."

His eyes widened, but his voice was quiet and resolute. "No."

Elizabeth shook her head once. "John…." 

"He needs to be here with me," he interrupted.

"Yes. He does need to be with you." Elizabeth replied, her voice as muted as his.

Confused, he stared hard at her, his distracted mind trying to process what she was saying. He swallowed as realization struck. "I… I can't. I… have responsibilities here…" Suddenly feeling fatigued, he rubbed his brow. "I can't just leave."

"John, look at me."

Elizabeth's quiet voice held a strength he felt compelled to listen to. Lowering his hand, he met her gaze.

"John, you need time away from Atlantis. Heightmeyer sees it, Carson sees it, and even Teyla does. You need to sort things out, and you can't do that with your job, your rank… your incredible responsibility staring at you." She sighed. "Right now, Pertus needs you more than Atlantis does… and you need to get away from here."

He blinked and looked away. Atlantis, his job… the Wraith, it all sapped him… made him tired. But, deep inside, he keenly felt his strong sense of responsibility. "The Wraith…. Elizabeth, if there's some kind of crisis…." 

"You're only 25 minutes away by Jumper, and easily reachable by radio," she interrupted. "I promise, if anything happens, we'll come get you."

He shook his head absently. "Elizabeth, I don't…" he swallowed, "I don't know if I'm… capable of being what Pertus needs right now." The admission was hard, but as he looked back at her, and saw the understanding in her eyes, he realized nothing he said surprised her. Her small smile reassured him.

"I think you're more capable than you realize, John. Just be there for him, be a constant in his life. He needs to go to the mainland with his people… and you need to go with him."

Still unsure, he watched as she stood, rounded her desk and leaned against it. She reached down, and gently grabbed one of his hands from its place on the chair's armrest. He looked up at her, mildly surprised at the personal contact. His gaze switched to her hand. Although his hand dwarfed hers, her squeeze was nonetheless firm.

"Take the time, John. Take all the time you need, but find yourself again. Find the John Sheppard we all know is in there. Help Pertus, focus on yourself, and let Atlantis take care of herself for a while."

He couldn't pull his gaze from her hand until, after a long moment, she broke the grip and leaned quietly against her desk, her hands folded lightly in her lap as she watched him intently.

He looked away from her, his gaze leaving her office and passing over the command center, the Gateroom… the Stargate. Fatigue plagued him as his sense of responsibility waned. Suddenly, he had no urge to do what he ought to: his job… his duty. He looked around and felt everything about Atlantis stifling him. He'd fought everything from dangerous Ancient technology to life-sucking Wraith from the moment he'd stepped through the Stargate, and he was tired of fighting it. The only glimmer of light that seemed to penetrate the fog of weariness in him was Pertus, although why, John had no clue. "I need to get away," he muttered quietly, his voice resigned. He looked up at Elizabeth, briefly noting the small hint of hesitation and fear that sparked in her eyes, before she buried it under a well-used, strong and reassuring expression.

"Yes, you do."

He swallowed. "The first of the Pallans leave for the mainland tomorrow?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes."

He leaned forward and slowly stood. He stared at her. "Pertus and I will be with them." Taking Elizabeth's silent nod as a cue, he turned and slowly walked from her office

----------------------------

Only a day later, he stood in the doorway of his quarters for a moment, looking around at the dark, modest décor. He blinked hard, fatigue haunting him. He shook his head at the irony. With how tired he felt these days, he was surprised good and constant sleep was something that eluded him. Even though Carson had provided him a bed in the infirmary so he could be close to Pertus, John made scant use of it.

He shifted the duffle on his shoulder and stepped out the doorway. A pang of disbelief sent a shot of pain through him. Even standing there, duffle on his shoulder, and ready to leave, part of him still couldn't accept the reality of his situation. Leaving Atlantis was something he'd never considered, and now faced with it, part of him still couldn't accept it. Tiredness called to him again. He just couldn't deal with it… a realization that was hard in coming, but stuck to him nonetheless.

Reaching out, he slapped the door crystal, watching as the doors slid shut. Turning, he strode down the hallway towards the Jumper Bay.

--------------------------

Elizabeth watched as the Jumper slowly ascended out of the bay. She swallowed hard against a lump in her throat, and the uncertainty that flooded her. She glanced at Rodney's neutral gaze.

"You did the right thing, Elizabeth," Rodney reaffirmed quietly.

She sighed. "I hope so, Rodney, for his sake."

----------------------------

John stood, light dust swirling around his feet, as he watched the Jumper slowly ascend and turn away from him. He felt numb, all the anger and hurt strangely silent within him. As the Jumper grew smaller on the horizon, he sighed, picked up his duffel and slung it over his shoulder. He looked down, arching an eyebrow at Pertus. "Well, here we are."

Pertus looked around, his expression taking on a note of sadness. "It reminds me of home," he said quietly.

John squeezed the boy's shoulder. "It should. It's your home now, Pertus. You're going to be happy here."

Pertus looked up at Sheppard and nodded, despite the uncertainty in his expression.

Fixing his gaze on the horizon, John found the barely visible Jumper and watched as it finally disappeared from his sight.

"Major?"

John looked to his left, and directly into the patient expression on Kelin's face.

"They are not far from you, Major, and you are always close in their hearts." Kelin's voice was quiet, as his gaze never wavered from John's.

"Yeah." John's unconvinced voice matched his mood as he turned and started across the field to the Athosian settlement, Pertus silently falling in next to him. John never took his gaze from the distant tents but, after a moment, he heard Kelin walking next to him, and felt his strong presence.

"I have arranged for a tent for you and Pertus," Kelin said quietly. "Halling agreed we should be sure you and the boy had a place to stay." 

John nodded slowly. "That's good." No other words came to him as he focused on moving through the calf-high grass.

"Halling was happy to do so, Major," Kelin continued. "You have done much for our people. This gesture is small compared to that."

John's uncertain, glum mood lifted slightly. "I still appreciate it. Thanks Kelin."

Kelin's smile held a hint of tease. "We would not leave you out in the cold, my friend."

John chuckled slightly. "Well, that's good!" Abruptly, he sighed. "Kelin, I'll go nuts here inside a week unless I have something to do. Any ideas?"

Kelin's smile broadened. "How interesting you should ask, Major." Shifting the homespun bag on his shoulder, Kelin continued,. "I was going to ask you if you would assist me with the young people, and their instruction on becoming hunters and adults."

John arched his brow. "Kelin, if I can't kill it with a P-90 or a 9 mil, I don't know how to hunt it. I doubt I'd be any help to you."

Kelin chuckled. "Nonsense. You are a level-headed, capable man, Major, with much guidance to offer adolescents."

Still unconvinced, John shook his head as they continued walking. "Right now, I don't think I'm really right for mentoring." He stumbled slightly, surprised, as Kelin's strong grip on his arm forced him to stop. He met Kelin's intense gaze with a questioning one of his own.

"You underestimate your worth, Major. You have much to offer, and perhaps the children can give something back to you, if you only open your eyes and accept it." Kelin held John's gaze, and his arm, for another moment, before letting go and once again walking towards the tents.

John watched Kelin's retreating back for a minute before glancing down and flashing Pertus a reassuring smile. "Come on." He kept his tone light as he walked briskly to catch up with Kelin. When they reached Kelin, all seriousness was gone from the Athosian's face, replaced by a warm smile. Following the direction of Kelin's gaze, John felt a smile creep onto his own face as he saw Halling crossed the field towards them, Jinto following behind.

"Halling!" Kelin's deep voice held warmth as the two men grasped forearms with each other.

"Kelin, my friend," Halling smiled. "It is good to see you well." He nodded once at Kelin, before looking over at John. "Major. Welcome to the mainland." He nodded warmly and extended his hand.

"Thanks. Good to see you again, Halling," John grasped Halling's forearm in greeting.

"Major Sheppard!" Jinto grinned up at John, who smiled back.

"Hiya Jinto," John tousled the Athosian boy's hair briefly. "Where's Wex?"

Jinto made a face. "He is in trouble. He could not come out tonight."

John chuckled and looked up at Halling, who smiled.

"You must be Pertus," Halling looked down at the small boy and smiled warmly. "Do not be scared. We are friends." Halling placed his hand on Jinto's shoulder. This is my son, Jinto. Jinto? This is Pertus."

"Hi!" Jinto grinned at Pertus.

John looked down at Pertus' uncertain expression and squeezed the boy's shoulder warmly. "It's okay."

Pertus' smile was small at first, but it grew slightly at Jinto's warm expression. "Hi." Pertus' voice was tentative, but Jinto took the cue as any young boy would and decided he liked the Pallan boy.

"Come on, I'll show you your tent!" Jinto pulled playfully on Pertus' sleeve, encouraging the Pallan boy to come with him.

Pertus looked up at John and bit his lower lip nervously. 

"Go on," John encouraged, "we won't be far behind."

Pertus nodded slightly.

"Come on!" Jinto started running across the field, but Pertus only walked along behind, his steps hesitant. After a moment, Jinto stopped, jogged back to Pertus, and walked along next to him as they both disappeared into the settlement.

John glanced at Kelin and Halling, who both watched after the boys silently.

After a moment Halling nodded. "He carries more pain than such a young boy should."

"Yes," Kelin agreed. "It will be a hard adjustment for him, but," Kelin smiled slightly, "Jinto and the other boys will help, I think."

All three men started walking, leaving the field and making their way into the settlement.

John inhaled deeply, feeling the tension begin to drain from his shoulders. He wasn't surprised. Before coming to Pegasus, one of his favorite ways to unwind was to get away and go camping. While this wasn't exactly a camping trip, the feel of the Athosian settlement, and the deep lungful of fresh air he took in, was close enough. Briefly, his feelings of betrayal darkened his mood, but at the same time he mulled over Kelin's words.

"You seem preoccupied, my friend," Kelin observed.

Startled, John still smiled. "I was just thinking about Pertus. It seems to me that what he needs right now, more than anything, are friends. He's already on his way with Jinto, so Wex can't be too far behind." John's smile widened slightly as both Athosian men chuckled in response.

"Yes, they do seem to be well attached to each other," Halling added.

"Perhaps then, he could join the other youngsters I am instructing?" Kelin offered, smiling as John nodded.

"My thoughts exactly!" John agreed.

"He will need you close by, if only for reassurance that you are there, Major. At least at first," Kelin offered quietly. He raised an expectant eyebrow at John.

John closed his eyes and shook his head in cynical amusement. "Hook, line and sinker," he muttered.

"What?" Kelin questioned, his confused expression matching Halling's.

John just sighed. "Never mind. When do we start?"

Pleased, Kelin smiled. "Early tomorrow."

As they walked through the Athosian settlement, John took the quiet time to look around and take in the hum of life that seemed to surround him. He could feel the energy of the people here … something that he'd felt from the Athosians the very first time he'd met them. It was a buzz… an energy for life that appealed to him. He'd felt the same thing from the Pallans….

John's thoughts derailed, and the small shoot of relaxation that had started to grow in him was utterly squashed. Tension surged through him, and he felt his muscles tighten in response. Silent, he clenched his jaw and fought the raw emotions that attacked his self-control. He glanced sideways at Kelin, who was staring hard at him.

As if he sensed the change in John's bearing, Kelin's wise eyes narrowed and bored into him. John abruptly looked away.

"Are you all right, Major?" Kelin asked quietly.

Against the bitter anger that plagued him, John still managed a tense smile. "Fine. Just tired." He bit off each word, before again falling silent.

"I see."

Kelin's voice was non-committal, and John glanced suspiciously at him, but Kelin had already looked away.

"Jinto!" Halling called loudly. After a moment, the Athosian boy appeared, Pertus right behind him. Halling smiled at Jinto. "It grows late, my son. Say goodnight. I will join you shortly."

Jinto nodded at each man, before smiling at Pertus. "See you tomorrow!"

John felt the darkness that shrouded him lighten a little at the Pallan boy's tentative smile and his quiet response. "Bye, Jinto."

Pertus fell in next to John they walked along with Kelin and Halling further into the settlement. Halling led them past a couple of tents to one set back from the others. At the doorway, he turned and smiled at John.

"I have arranged for you and the boy to use this tent as long as you would like, Major. It is yours."

John's smile was genuine. "Thanks Halling." Leading the way, John entered the spacious tent and looked around. Two sleeping pallets, both stacked high with furs, sat on opposite sides of the tent. The center area was dominated by a short table and benches, and was well lit by a firepot that hung low over the center of the table. Firepots in each of the corners added light to that cast by the one over the table, and gave the entire tent a welcoming, homey feeling. Keeping his smile, John turned and nodded at Halling. "This is really generous of you."

Halling smiled. "You have done much for my people, Major." His smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "Because of you, my son still has a father. That is a debt I can never repay." He waved around him. "This is small in comparison."

John felt a small flush creep up his cheeks and he nodded silently. Again, a small voice of reason whispered to him, and he had to fight to keep the surprise from his expression. _You haven't lost everyone… you have made a difference…._

Halling smiled down at Pertus, before looking back to John. "Take some time to settle in, Major. We will see you in the morning."

John nodded slightly and watched as Kelin and Halling left his tent. He stood there, for a moment, at a loss as to what to do. He looked around. Strangely quiet, the Athosian tent was starkly different than his living quarters on Atlantis….

His thoughts dwelt on Atlantis… the team… his life. He wondered what they were doing, what was happing… and what his absence would mean to them. He rubbed his brow, as once again he felt drained and tired. He glanced at Pertus, and did a double take as the boy stared expectantly at him. Pertus' expression was a cross between hesitation and fear, and John felt sympathy rise in him. Holding Pertus' gaze, John's mouth turned up in a half smile. He pushed away his thoughts of Atlantis, and focused on the here and now. He reached down and picked up his duffle bag. "What do you say we unpack?" He ruffled the boy's hair as Pertus nodded and smiled slightly.

---------------------------------

Not far from John's tent, Kelin stopped and looked back. He glanced at Halling, who joined him.

"It is as Teyla said," Halling ventured quietly. "He is very troubled."

Kelin considered Halling's words for a long moment before nodding slowly. "There is a struggle within him. He is fighting himself, although I doubt he realizes it." Kelin's own pain whispered to him, as it had for many years, but, with an ease only gained in years of practice, he turned away from it. Long ago, he'd accepted the burden of his misfortunes, and learned to endure them… to live with them, and in spite of them.

"Perhaps that is why Teyla came to you, my friend." Halling's voice was knowing as he glanced at Kelin.

Kelin smiled wisely. "Perhaps." His gaze fixed on the Major's tent, Kelin continued, "He has lost perspective. Through all the bad that has happened to him, he cannot see the good he has done… or the good he still can do."

"Will he?"

Kelin arched his brows at Halling's blunt but fair question. Living in the shadow of the Wraith, no Athosian had gone untouched by the horrors of a culling. Both he and Halling had known Athosians who had never been able to put their losses behind them… to go on living. Kelin looked away and sighed as he mulled over Halling's words, before once again looking back to the Major's tent. "If he faces his pain and allows the strength of those around him, to bolster him, perhaps… yes. In time, I believe he can find himself."

Halling nodded slightly. "He carries a great pain."

"Yes," Kelin agreed. "It is buried deep inside him. Until he lets it loose and faces it, it will continue to plague him."

"That alone could destroy him." Halling turned and faced Kelin. Concern shadowed Halling's expression. "We have seen it before."

Kelin stared at Halling for a moment, before again looking towards the settlement. "He has a great strength of spirit… and he will need it to prevail."

"Yes." Halling nodded. "the Major is a strong man."

"He is," Kelin agreed, "but there are many different kinds of strength, Halling. The Major must use all of them to once again be the man that he was once was."

Halling nodded silently, turned and walked away.

Kelin spent one more long moment staring at the Major's tent, before he followed his friend.

------------------------------------

When Kelin had told him 'early tomorrow', John didn't think it would be this early. He yawned, stretched, and cocked an eyebrow at Kelin's amused stare.

"It is not that early, Major."

John rubbed his eyes. Never one to sleep late, he nonetheless found this hour of the morning to be a bit much, even for him. "That's a matter of opinion," he muttered.

Kelin's amused look deepened into a smile. "Come. Halling has invited you and Pertus to take the morning meal with him."

John slowly rolled over, pulled his legs under himself and stood. He walked over to Pertus' bed and squeezed the boy's shoulder gently. "Pertus?"

Pertus slowly opened his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Major Sheppard?"

His voice was groggy, and John smiled in response. "Time to get up, Pertus." John stood up again and yawned.

"I am sorry to come into your home uninvited, Major, but you did not respond to my calls." Kelin sat down on one of the benches that surrounded the table. He turned away, giving John some privacy to change out of the pants he'd slept in.

John shrugged. "It's okay. I guess I was pretty tired to be sleeping that deeply." He frowned at his wrinkled pants and snagged a clean pair from his nearby duffle. He pulled his t-shirt over his head before he knelt and quickly laced his boots. "Kelin, I know you don't have showers around here but…," his voice trailed off.

Kelin chuckled. "You may bathe in the river later, John."

John winced silently at the thought of the cold, mountain water. "Sounds… invigorating."

Kelin's chuckled turned to a laugh. "It is cold, John."

John smiled, stood and grabbed his sidearm, the sound of the holstered gun sliding across a nearby chair causing Kelin to turn and watch him.

The older man's gaze settled on the gun. "That is not necessary, Major. We are only going to Halling's tent for a morning meal." he ventured quietly.

John froze, his gun belt halfway wrapped around his waist. The holstered 9 mil gently bumped against his thigh as he slowly looked at Kelin. He smiled cynically. "That's okay. I'd rather have it with me."

Kelin arched an eyebrow. "We do not go to meals with friends armed, Major. It is not our way."

John felt a slight flush creep up his neck. "Oh." He hastily laid the gun belt on his bed. "Sorry." His expression turned wary as he glanced at Kelin, but Kelin only smiled.

"Do not apologize. There was no way for you to know. You are a warrior among your people. It is natural for you to carry a weapon. Among our people, friendship is a relationship of trust more than anything else. And, to survive the Wraith, we must trust each other. With our health, our lives, our children. To take a meal with someone is a gesture of trust, as it is a gesture of friendship to offer it."

John nodded silently as he considered Kelin's words. He watched as Pertus pulled his homespun shirt over his head. "Makes sense," he agreed quietly.

Kelin's smile widened as he stood. "Come, my friend." He turned, exiting the tent, confident that John would follow.

John's brows knitted as he heard a faint rumbling sound. He glanced at Pertus, who looked away sheepishly. John smiled as he realized the sound was the boy's stomach. "Hungry?" he chuckled.

Pertus slowly looked back at John and smiled. Tentative at first, the smile grew into a toothy grin; the first one Sheppard had seen on the boy since before the destruction of Palla.

"I'll take that as a yes," John answered. He waved at the entrance to the tent, smiling as the boy quickly crossed to it, whipped aside the furs and ducked outside. Shaking his head, he followed behind.

-------------------------------

John absently nibbled on a hard roll as his gaze lingered on Pertus and the other boys. The young Pallan boy was still tentative, but seemed to be coming out of his shell more. John swallowed and smiled slightly as Jinto laughed loudly and shoved Pertus' shoulder at something the boy said. John grabbed his cup, inhaling the strong scent of stout, Athosian tea. He took a long sip and lowered the cup, his eyes instantly meeting those of Halling, who sat across the table from him.

Halling nodded briefly at John, who returned the gesture.

John finished his tea as people began to rise from the table, the meal finished. John stood, and looked around hesitantly, before Kelin seemed to materialize beside him. For a moment, the two men were silent as they watched Jinto, Pertus and Wex laugh and tease each other. Still unsure of himself, Pertus offered up a quiet comment John couldn't hear, but the laughter from Wex and Jinto was loud. John shook his head slightly, a gesture not lost on Kelin.

"Pertus seems to have found some friends." Kelin smiled.

"Yeah," John agreed, "he's a little timid though." He watched the boys intently.

"Give him time, Major. He has much to work through still," Kelin responded.

Something in the Athosian man's tone grabbed John's attention. He slowly looked over at Kelin, who, as usual, wore a very neutral expression. John's gaze narrowed. "Why do I get the feeling you're not just talking about Pertus?"

Kelin arched an eyebrow, a shadow of a smile passing over his mouth. "Perhaps."

"Major?"

Halling, who walked up behind him, drew John's attention from Kelin. "Halling," John nodded, "thanks for the meal."

Halling smiled. "It would please me if you and Pertus would take all your meals with us, Major."

John's brows arched at the generous offer. "Thanks, Halling but…" his voice trailed off.

Halling cocked his head in confusion. "Do you not wish to take meals with us?"

John's eyes widened. "No, it's not that. I… well…" he shrugged, " I think I need to do something to earn my keep around here…."

Halling glanced at Kelin, before slowly smiling at John. "You are to help Kelin with training the children, are you not?"

John nodded. "I guess so."

"Then you are doing your part, Major," Halling reasoned. Changing the subject, he went on. "I would ask that Pertus join myself, Jinto and the others who tend the crops, after the morning meals, if that is acceptable to you. We would like to involve all the Pallans in our farming as soon as possible, as I believe they have much to offer in the way of advice."

John's gaze narrowed in confusion as he glanced at Kelin. "I thought Pertus was to join the boys in instruction…?"

"He is," Kelin answered. "The children help with their families' crafts for the first half of the day, or apprentice to another craft. They are mine to instruct in the afternoons before the evening meal. Pertus may do both, as do the other children."

John nodded. "Makes sense."

"You are acting as the boy's guardian, Major, so I would ask this of you." Halling smiled.

John returned the grin. "Sure. It'd be good for him." He looked back to the group of boys. "Pertus?" His smile lingered as Pertus walked over to him. He knelt and looked the boy in the eye. "Pertus, I want you to go with Jinto and Halling. You and your people are going to help them tend fields in the mornings for a while okay? I'll see you at the midday meal, and in the afternoons." 

A shadow of hesitation crossed Pertus' face as he nodded slowly.

John sighed and squeezed the boy's shoulder. "The Athosians want to learn how your people farm, Pertus. Besides, Jinto will be there."

"You can work with me!" Jinto appeared out of nowhere and grinned at Pertus.

Pertus bit his lower lip and glanced at Jinto, before looking back at John, who smiled reassuringly. Slowly, the boy nodded. "Okay."

"Okay," John agreed quietly. "Go on. Go with Jinto."

"Meet us in the north field, Jinto." Halling smiled down at his son.

"Yes, Father." Jinto grabbed Pertus' sleeve. "Come on!" He pulled Pertus along behind him.

"Well handled, Major. Your instincts with the boy are very good." Halling smiled at John as the two boys exited the tent.

John sighed. "Thanks. I can't stay here forever. He has to start spending time with other people besides me." His intense gaze on the doorway broke as he felt the keen silence surrounding him. He glanced first at Halling, then at Kelin. Both men's expressions were reserved. Suddenly uncomfortable, John inhaled deeply. He quickly crossed the tent and exited.

He stepped out into the early morning mist, and pulled in a deep, cleansing breath of the slightly chilly air. He felt conflicted, part of him savoring the relaxed, simple atmosphere of the Athosian settlement, the other part guilty for not being on Atlantis.

He buried his hands deep in his pockets and slowly walked down the pathway through the settlement. Guilt trailed him… followed his every step, and on its heels a great weariness at the thought of his duty, responsibilities, and even his life on Atlantis. Part of him was confused. He knew deep down that he loved Atlantis, was dedicated to the expedition and the team, and savored the challenge, even in the face of incredible peril. But now, each of those feelings was squashed under a thick layer of indifference. John sighed. All of a sudden, he just didn't have the energy… the desire for any of it… for anything.

Except Pertus. John's thoughts latched onto the boy and his plight. John could be there for Pertus. A task that should've been every bit as draining as anything Atlantis had to offer. But John found no weariness in caring for Pertus. His mind clung to that thought.

"Major?" 

John sucked in a deep breath before he turned and watched Kelin make his way down the path. He nodded once in answer. "Kelin?"

The older man stopped next to John, his narrowed gaze traveling down, then back up John's body, noting his demeanor and tired expression. "Major. Are you all right?"

John found a small half smile. "Just tired."

After a silent moment, Kelin inhaled deeply. "Teyla has told me she has begun instructing you in the fighting ways of our people. I normally work my skills this time of morning, and would welcome a sparring partner." Kelin arched a brow at John. "If you feel well enough for it."

John looked away, his thoughts turning to Teyla, to fighting, to….

_Spinning, John delivered the hardest blow he could…._

_Numb, he could only stare at her. A trail of blood worked its way down her cheek, and from where he was, he couldn't tell if she was alive. In the back of his mind, he noticed his stick slip from his deadened fingers and clatter to the floor. "God," he whispered. _

"Major?"

John swallowed hard and pushed away his memories as he felt Kelin's hand settle on his shoulder.

"Do not brood on your troubles. Work them out. Speak of them, face them, and conquer them. But do not brood over them. That will only poison your spirit," Kelin offered quietly.

"I'm not brooding," John's contradiction was as weak as his quiet voice.

"Major." Kelin's voice was patient.

"It's…" John shook his head. "It's my problem, Kelin. I'll find a way to handle it myself."

"Perhaps," Kelin's voice was neutral, "but at many points in our lives, we all need a voice of experience to guide us."

John's gaze narrowed at the knowing look Kelin gave him, but still he said nothing.

"Come spar with me, Major," Kelin urged gently. "At the very least, you may practice your skills."

John sighed deeply. He felt stiff, tense, and the thought of a workout actually appealed to him. "Okay," he agreed quietly.

Kelin smiled. "Good. Come." He walked down the pathway.

John stared after him for a moment before trotting to catch up.


	7. Book III Chapter II

Kelin led John through the settlement, past the last tents and out into a grassy field. Set to one side, against the nearby tree line, a spacious, square area, designated by large rocks, grabbed John's attention. He arched an eyebrow as Kelin made a beeline for it, stepped between two of the bordering rocks, and crossed to a box situated at one end of the practice area. About knee height, the box was about five feet long. The hair-free hide that covered it held a soft gleam.

John came up next to Kelin and ran a hand over the skin. He rubbed his fingers together, surprised at the oily residue on his fingertips. He looked down, noticing how the morning dew had beaded on the surface of the skin. He smiled.

Kelin peeled back the skin. "It is to keep the moisture out." He opened the box and pulled out a set of fighting sticks. Handing them to John, he reached in and grabbed another set, before closing the box and repositioning the oilskin.

John's gaze fixed on the sticks. Memories pulled at him.

_Fighting… Teyla…._

John pushed the memories away and turned, his eyes widening at a makeshift practice dummy suspended by a thick rope from a long heavy tree branch that hung out over the practice area. "Nice idea," he commented quietly, to which Kelin smiled and nodded.

"Yes. That is one of the reasons this spot was chosen for the practice field."

John shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over one of the rocks as he walked towards the practice dummy. He absently twirled the sticks in his hands, getting a feeling for their balance. In the middle of the practice area, he turned, watching as Kelin also twirled his sticks. The sticks never leaving his hands, John worked through some basic stretches, warming up his muscles for the spar, while Kelin did the same.

Feeling loose, John stood up straight, shook each leg absently, and assumed a defensive pose, as Kelin lifted his sticks and nodded at John.

"Defend yourself, Major," Kelin said quietly.

John stiffened, his concentration momentarily broke by Kelin's words.

"_Defend yourself…."_

John's memories flashed by him again. He could see Teyla circle him, her sticks ready, her agile attack….

His attack on her.

A hard thump on one of his sticks sent a painful shock up his arm and snapped him back to the present. He inhaled sharply, his concentration returning to Kelin.

"Major, this will not be an effective spar if you do not concentrate," Kelin admonished lightly. His smile turned slightly challenging. "I will not be so forgiving again."

John inhaled deeply and nodded. "Sorry." He twirled one stick and slowly circled opposite Kelin's motion. Facing off with Kelin, John forced himself to concentrate, trying to read the man's next move.

A flurry of blows suddenly came at John, and he found himself backpedaling, trying to stay ahead of Kelin's offense. Abruptly, Kelin slipped inside his guard and delivered a one, two succession that smacked down both of John's sticks. Kelin spun and delivered a stunning blow to the back of John's leg, and he felt his knees buckle. He landed hard on his knees. "Ouch! Damn it!" He let himself settle back on his heels as he looked up at Kelin, who patiently stood nearby, a vaguely smug look on his face. "Nice move."

Kelin nodded once. "Your defense has promise, Major."

John grabbed both his sticks and slowly stood, wincing at the hot pain in his leg. "Call me John," he said, his voice slightly strained, but mostly sincere.

"Very well, John," Kelin smiled. His gaze narrowed at the amused look on John's face. "What is it?"

"That wasn't so hard," John answered. He smiled at Kelin's confused expression. "Halling. He still refuses to call me anything but Major." John's brows knitted. "Not sure why."

Kelin's smile turned understanding. "Ah. I see. That is Halling though." He twirled one stick, his smile fading. "Are you ready?"

John grimaced. "As I'll ever be." He circled opposite of Kelin, once more squaring off with him. He took a moment to study Kelin. The Athosian seemed to be in his early fifties, but his physical fitness, agility, strength and quickness reminded John of a much younger man. Surprise wormed through John, but he pushed it away and concentrated on Kelin. Once again, he found himself retreating as Kelin pressed him with a strong offensive attack.

In the face of such a skillful assault, John was astonished as a clear opening appeared in Kelin's seemingly impenetrable defense. For an instant, he felt torn. Part of him screamed to take advantage of the opening, but he hesitated. The last time he had done that, he had almost killed Teyla. Insecurity swept through him as his trust in himself utterly failed. Distracted, he watched the opening disappear as Kelin pressed his advantage. This time, he saw Kelin's disarming move coming and countered it, only to find Kelin had more than one trick up his sleeve. He felt his feet swept out from under him, and the next thing he knew, he was lying on the grass, staring at the cloudy sky. "Damn," he muttered.

Abruptly, Kelin appeared above him, his expression slightly amused. "Are you all right, John?"

John arched an eyebrow and sighed. "Yeah. Not sure if my pride can take much more of this though."

Kelin offered him a hand, which he gladly took. Kelin pulled him to his feet and clapped him on the shoulder a couple of times. "Patience, John. I have been practicing all my life, as have most of my people. I do not expect you to have mastered the sticks so soon."

John sighed and rubbed his shoulder gingerly. "Teyla said something of that sort not too long ago…." John's voice trailed off as painful memories swept over him once again. His gaze averted from Kelin, he did not see the astute look on Kelin's face.

"Teyla has forgiven you, John. Why can you not forgive yourself?" Kelin asked quietly.

_I… can't. I broke…._ John pulled his mind from those thoughts. His gaze narrowed as he abruptly stared at Kelin. "How…?" His voice trailed off as Kelin absently waved one stick at him.

"Teyla told me… among other things."

John felt the rock-hard presence of his personal wall rise within him, and he backed behind it. "She had no right," he spat, but Kelin only stared calmly back.

"Did she not? It was as much her experience as yours, John. As for anything else, she is a concerned friend. None of what she told me was secret." Kelin's gaze narrowed. "That which is secret you have yet to reveal."

John's control was assaulted; the low boil of his anger rising to the surface, but with it came a sense of panic. Fear that someone… anyone could read him so well, to think there was something he was holding back, to know there were things he couldn't reveal, couldn't talk about….

Couldn't face.

John turned away from the blackness within him, but its effect lingered, tainting his emotions. He inhaled deeply, his gaze narrowing in anger. "I thought we came here to spar." His anger only redoubled as a small, understanding smile passed over Kelin's face. It was a knowing look, and John knew damn well Kelin wasn't fooled for a minute… a thought that only angered him more.

"Very well." Kelin raised his sticks. "Defend yourself, John."

John's anger was distracting. Before long, he once again found himself flat on his back. John shook his head, his hair rubbing against the damp grass. "Teyla's used that one on me. You'd think I'd see it coming."

Kelin smiled down at John. "Of course she has. Who do you think taught it to her?"

John blinked, his anger dissolving in surprise. He sat up and slowly stood. "You trained Teyla?"

Kelin's smile widened. "Yes. She fostered with me after her father was taken. Teyla was one of my best students."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm sparring way over my head?" John muttered. He cocked an eyebrow at Kelin. "You're only telling me this now?"

Kelin only shrugged. "You did not ask before." He twirled one stick absently. "Has Teyla not shown you offensive moves?" he asked as he patiently waited for John to pull himself together for another spar.

"Yeah," John answered warily, "haven't had a chance to show you." It was a blunt lie, and he wasn't the least bit surprised by Kelin's slightly unconvinced look.

"I have given you clear openings, John. Why then, have you not taken them?"

"I haven't seen them," John groused. _Openings? I only saw one…._

"Then we must address that," Kelin answered. He stopped his circling and stared plainly at John. "That is, if you would like me to help train you? With Teyla on Atlantis and you here, you will not have the sparring opportunities with her that you are used to. I would be willing to step in and teach you, if you are willing."

Part of John resisted. What had started as a simple spar had taken turns he didn't expect, and had trod dangerously close to issues he didn't want to discuss with anyone. He felt uncomfortable with Kelin. The man was downright perceptive to the point of clairvoyance, and John wasn't sure he wanted to face that sort of scrutiny, or if he'd be able to keep his guard up in Kelin's presence.

But, deep inside him, another part of John made itself known. Strangely calm, the quiet voice of reason urged him to take Kelin's offer. That part of him admired the man, found a strange sense of sage wisdom in Kelin's words, and longed for more of them. The voice of reason wanted help, wanted him to seek it. While John backed away from that, he found a strange appeal to Kelin's offer.

He smiled. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Kelin smiled. "Very well. Let us begin now." He gestured at the practice dummy. "Show me what you know."

-------------------

John stepped from Halling's tent, a small, relaxed smile on his face as he watched five young people gather around Kelin. The midday meal finished, the young teens would be mentored for the next few hours in some of the skills they would need in adulthood; tracking, hunting, building shelter, fires, and survival. John sighed, wondering again how he'd been roped into helping with these kids. He wasn't much of a hunter, and his tracking skills weren't much better, but if there was one thing the military taught him, that was survival. In a pinch he could build a decent shelter, find water and food, and build a fire. He chuckled. Like the Athosians had USAF-issue fire starters, or even a decent match for that matter. But his survival instructor had been pretty gung ho: John was relatively sure he could still make a firebow… if he had to. His smile lingered. It'd be interesting to try, anyway; part of him looked forward to the challenge.

"Major Sheppard?"

John glanced down at Pertus. "You'll join us tomorrow, Pertus. Halling wants you to be with your people this afternoon. They're working on getting your people settled here and Korban would like you with them, okay?"

Pertus looked longingly at Jinto and the others before looking back at John. The boy nodded quietly. "Okay."

John ruffled Pertus' hair. "Okay. Get going. I'll see you at the evening meal." He watched as Pertus walked over and joined Korban, who was talking with another Pallan woman. Korban nodded briefly at John.

"John?" Kelin waved at him.

John casually walked over to the small group, slightly uncomfortable as five pairs of eyes fixed on him. "Uh, hi." He smiled self-consciously.

"Major Sheppard!" Jinto's grin was wide.

"_That's_ Major Sheppard?" Another boy stared at Jinto for a moment, before looking wide eyed at John. "Wow."

"Jinto's told us all about you, Major Sheppard." Yet another boy, a sandy-haired blue-eyed kid also stared in awe at John.

John scratched the back of his neck self-consciously. "He has? Like what?" His gaze narrowed slightly in suspicion at Jinto.

"Like how you fought the Wraith on Athos, and rescued Halling and Teyla from the Wraith ship!" the first boy said almost immediately.

"And found Jinto and chased the Shadow from Atlantis!" the second boy added enthusiastically.

"Hey!" Wex's interruption was indignant, "I was the one that told you that!"

"You brought Teyla onto your team and treated her as an equal."

John looked past the enthusiastic boys, searching for the quiet voice that had ventured that last comment. He smiled as a dark-haired girl stared back at him, her eyes wide with young innocence.

"John," Kelin's voice captured his attention. "Let me introduce you. Jinto and Wex you already know." Kelin pointed to the brown-haired lanky boy who had first spoken to John. "This is Rentel." Kelin gestured at the second boy. "And Sorbus. They were with me on the last hunting party, and have trained longer than the rest of the group." Kelin waved at the dark-haired girl, who stepped around Jinto and stood before John.

Tall for her age, the top of her head nevertheless only reached mid way up John's chest, but she stared him in the eye with a look that was every bit his equal.

John smiled back, a flicker of admiration passing through him at the strength he saw in her, despite her youth. For a moment, he was reminded of Teyla.

"This is Myella. She is new to our group." Kelin gestured slightly at the girl before waving to the group. "We will begin work soon. Gather at the training field, and Major Sheppard and I will join you soon. Go."

Abruptly, innocence returned to Myella's face as she giggled and ran off with the other boys towards the training field.

John turned and watched the group run off. "Energetic bunch." He cocked an eyebrow at Kelin who smiled and nodded.

"Yes, they are young."

John nodded silently as he and Kelin made their way to the training field at a much slower pace than their students. "Myella. She's the only girl in your group." His matter of fact statement brought a nod from Kelin.

"It is less common for women to follow the hunting way of life than men, but not unheard of… Teyla being an example." Kelin sighed. "In my travels through the Ring of the Ancestors, I have met other societies where women are restricted from doing many things because they are women. It is not that way with us. There are many duties that are more common for women to perform, just as it is with men, but we do not scorn a sharing of those duties." Kelin smiled. "Myella is Laonid's daughter, but she is not suited to follow in his footsteps. She is not suited well to the typical duties of her gender either, so we shall see if her path lies in a different direction." Kelin glanced in confusion at John's chuckle. "What?"

John shook his head. "I was thinking of Elizabeth… Dr. Weir. She told me one time that she can't cook or sew to save her life."

Kelin chuckled with John. "As it is with Teyla." Kelin's smile faded slightly. "In many ways, Myella reminds me very much of Teyla. Such quiet, inner strength." Kelin drew in a deep breath. "Rentel's parents fire pots and such, and he will probably follow their path, but there is much value in knowledge of all skills, and Rentel will benefit from what he learns here. Jinto and Wex are well on their way to following the hunter's path, as did their parents."

John nodded. "And Sorbus?"

Kelin sighed. "Sorbus is my fosterling. I am his guardian until he reaches adulthood." Kelin glanced at John's questioning look before continuing. "Sorbus' parents were taken in a culling a few years ago. He will likely follow the hunter's path as well."

John walked in silence. For Kelin to take the boy in and raise him was far from a simple act of kindness, and John found it extremely admirable. In all the time he had known the Athosian people, he was beginning to realize that he didn't really know them at all. The close-knit community had deep bonds of family and trust that frankly he never knew existed. It was a culture deeply committed to each other and, in light of the Wraith, he could easily see the need. He felt anger again at the Wraith as the reality of the way of life for the Athosian people hit home with him. How many times had any Athosian lost a loved one to a Wraith culling? Parentless, Sorbus had needed guidance and someone to watch out for him, and it had been up to someone, anyone to step forward and offer that guidance.

Perspective swept over John. He had suffered his own losses to the Wraith, but how could he compare to Sorbus, or to any Athosian who had lost loved ones? John glanced at Kelin, realizing the silence was not lost on him. He nodded. "That was generous of you."

Kelin smiled. "He is a good child, and I am proud of him."

A few feet from the practice area, Kelin and John stopped, watching the students mill around. Kelin glanced at John. "Are you ready for this, my friend?"

John smiled. "As I'll ever be." He waved towards the kids. "Lead on."

Kelin entered the wide training area and gestured at the students, who gathered around him. He smiled at them. "You have ten minutes to check your snares. Bring back whatever you have caught." He stepped back and waved at them. "Go, and I would prefer not to hear you as you pass through the woods."

John arched an eyebrow as each of the youths walked away from Kelin, fanned out and entered the woods close by. He glanced at Kelin. "Snares?"

Kelin smiled as the students disappeared into the underbrush. "They have just learned to make snares. What better way to test their skills? I instructed them to set the snares last night. We shall see how well they paid attention to instruction and the craft."

John nodded then shook his head. "I think I remember something about snares from survival training, but not much." He crinkled his brows. "The biggest thing I remember was having to eat a beetle." John grimaced.

"A beetle?" Kelin glanced at John.

"Insects. Part of that 'stay alive at all costs'… thing. Make a fire, build a shelter, get water, and eat whatever you have to so you survive." He grimaced again. "Including bugs."

"Ah." Kelin smiled. "I can think of more preferable things to eat."

John chuckled. "Me too."

"Have you ever had to use such skills, John?" Kelin asked quietly.

John's smile faded. "Yeah, once." Hard memories returned to him as he glanced at Kelin. "My Apache was shot down in a place called Afghanistan. Four days in the desert trying to stay ahead of Taliban soldiers. Almost didn't get out of that one." John pushed away the memories, his efforts aided by the reappearance of the first kid. Rentel approached Kelin and John, a satisfied smile on his face. In his snare, a small animal, loosely resembling an Earth rabbit, hung limply.

Kelin smiled and nodded at the youth.

The rest of the students one by one emerging from the woods distracted John's attention. Each of them had full snares, except Myella. John arched his brows at her obvious frustration.

"What happened, Myella?" Kelin asked patiently.

"I didn't catch anything, Kelin." Myella's voice was barely above a whisper and heavy with shame. Stifled giggles from Wex sparked anger in Myella's eyes. She dropped the snare and stared daggers at Wex. "Be quiet, Wex!"

"Myella."

Kelin's voice hardened but the Athosian girl was too upset to listen. Taking one big step she reached out and shoved Wex hard. Wex staggered back into Sorbus before landing on his backside.

John was a hair faster than Kelin, and grabbed Myella from behind as she lurched towards Wex. "Hey! That's enough!" Holding fast to the squirming girl, John lifted her completely off the ground. "I said, that's enough!"

"MYELLA!"

Myella froze at Kelin's roar.

John carefully set her down and slowly let go, ready at an instant to grab her again if necessary, but Myella only stood there, her eyes downcast as Kelin glared at her.

"Return to your tent, Myella. I will speak with your father later." Kelin's voice, while stern, was once again a normal tone. "But first, apologize to Wex."

Myella looked up, shame reddening her cheeks. "I am sorry, Wex," she muttered.

John studied Wex's face. Anger still sparked in the boy's expression and he said nothing.

"Wex?" Kelin prompted.

Wex exhaled loudly. "I accept." His tone was equally as muted as Myella's, but Kelin accepted the gesture.

"Myella go. Think about what happened today. We will talk of it later." Kelin's voice was once again kind.

John watched the young girl slowly leave the training grounds. Her posture was dejected, and she seemed almost lost as she made her way into the encampment. John returned his attention to the group of students as Kelin spoke to them.

"Show me how to properly clean and dress your kill, then take it to Laonid for curing. After that, reset your snares. Then return here for sparring."

John's attention was drawn to Myella's discarded snare. Bending over, he grabbed it and straightened. Turning the snare over in his hands John nodded at the detailed craft. Tightly woven from sinew, the snare was sturdy and cleanly constructed, at least as far as his inexperienced eye could tell. He smiled at Kelin.

"It is well constructed," Kelin agreed. "She is more adept than she realizes."

John's smile broadened. He understood and agreed with Kelin's stand with Myella, but a part of him admired the fire she had. "She's got spirit."

Kelin chuckled. "Yes, she does, but not the wisdom to go with it."

John shook his head. "I don't think I had much wisdom at that age either."

To this, Kelin outright laughed. "Very true!" His laughter faded. "Myella will learn." Kelin lightly slapped John's arm. "Come, let us see how the boys are doing with their kills."

The afternoon went quickly, and John was a bit sad to see it end. But, as the sun set, casting orange light around them, he was acutely aware of the pinch of hunger in his stomach. He watched as each one of the students returned their fighting sticks to the box, covered it with the oil skin, and dashed from the practice area, their loud shouts and laugher echoing. John chuckled as he watched them go, and looked at Kelin, who was also smiling.

"I must speak with Myella's father, John. I will meet you at Halling's tent for the evening meal."

John nodded. "Sure." He lingered in the practice field as Kelin left, and absently pushed the practice dummy as his thoughts wandered. For the first time all day, his thoughts settled on Atlantis, and he realized that he had gone all day without knowing what was happening there. A part of him loathed the loss of control, but he turned away from it. Elizabeth would've called him if there had been serious trouble.

Kicking a small rock, he ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. Being on the mainland, helping Pertus and the other kids… thinking and caring about something new, gave him a fresh perspective. _Something else to worry about._ Oddly, he felt fresh, not weary. His body felt tired from activity but not weary, worn… apathetic. He swallowed against a lump in his throat. He loved Atlantis, his work, his life. There was a joy in making a difference that he relished, but somehow had lost, to fatigue and indifference. His brows furrowed, the pain in his soul finding its way to his expression. Without that joy, he felt lost.

The sound of children's laughter reached his ears. _Pertus…._

A lifeline to his spirit, his thoughts held tightly to the boy, and to helping him. Slowly, a small smile pulled at one side of his mouth, as his gloom lifted. He sighed as the rumble of hunger in his belly derailed his thoughts. Giving the practice dummy one last shove, he left the training grounds and headed for Halling's tent.

--------------------------

A hum of activity disrupted the normally peaceful morning, and captured John's attention. Only recently awake, he was just finishing lacing the calf-high boots Halling had given him. He sat up straight, his hands passing over the soft pants that replaced his standard-issue Atlantis gear. Over the past two weeks working with the Athosian boys and hunting, Kelin had urged him to change his attire, and, he had to admit, the pants and boots were comfortable. Both soft as doeskin, they were remarkably strong, and provided a complete range of motion… a quality Kelin routinely tested in John's training. Hardened soles on the boots protected his feet regardless of the terrain and, properly cured, the boots were amazingly waterproof. But he did retain his comfortable black t-shirts, loath to give up the feel of smooth cotton for the homespun tunics the Athosians wore.

He scratched his stubble and briefly considered a beard, before dismissing the thought. Footsteps passed by his tent, and the buzz of voices made their way to his ears, recapturing John's attention. He smiled at Pertus, who had just finished dressing in clothing given to him by the Athosians. For a moment, John's gaze lingered. In the fourteen days they had been on the mainland, he had seen improvement in the boy's demeanor. Hints of the happy youth John remembered from Palla were showing, as Pertus slowly made his way to normalcy again. Jinto the other boys, and even Myella, had welcomed him into their group, and Pertus thrived in the company.

John stood. "Come on, let's see what's up." He stepped out of the tent, Pertus right behind him. He froze as he watched a Jumper settle to the ground in the center of the settlement. Like a shot of cold water, the sight of the sleek Jumper descending before him triggered memories of Atlantis. He felt a glimmer of guilt. Two weeks, and he'd hardly thought about Atlantis… the team….

His duty.

Unbidden, cold dread came over him as his mind abruptly jumped to the conclusion that something was wrong. Aware that Pertus followed him, he jogged across the clearing and stopped behind the Jumper as the back hatch slowly opened.

His gaze narrowed at the faces of Heightmeyer, Teyla and Markham. He nodded at Markham. "Sergeant? Report."

"Nothing to report, sir," Markham responded. "Dr. Heightmeyer and Teyla needed a lift here, and Dr. Weir asked me to bring them."

John's gaze narrowed. "Nothing's happened?"

"No, sir," Markham shook his head.

"Everything is fine, Major," Teyla added. "I wished to speak with Halling about the Pallans, and…" her voice trailed off as she looked at Heightmeyer.

Heightmeyer smiled at him. "I wanted to check on you, Pertus, and some of the other Pallans."

He nodded absently. "I see."

Heightmeyer stared at him for a moment before smiling at Pertus. "Pertus, how are you?"

John looked down at the boy and nodded his head towards Heightmeyer. "Go on. Talk with Dr. Heightmeyer for a while." He watched as Pertus smiled warmly back at Heightmeyer and walked along with her to the settlement.

John glanced sideways at Teyla. "How are you?"

Teyla smiled back. "I am fine, Major." She inhaled deeply. "You seem well also."

John cocked an eyebrow. "Well enough, I guess." He looked back as the Jumper's hatch closed. "He's leaving?" He glanced back at Teyla.

Teyla nodded. "Yes. Dr. Heightmeyer wishes to stay for the day, as do I. He will return for us at sundown."

John pursed his lips and looked away, watching as the Jumper lifted off. He hadn't known. Didn't know the schedules, anyone's missions… what was going on. His racing mind faltered under an abrupt weariness at the thought of it all, but it lingered with him… he didn't know….

"Major?"

He glanced at Teyla, before returning his gaze to the Jumper. "I don't… I guess I'm not used to being out of the loop like that."

Teyla nodded silently.

He turned away from her and headed into the settlement.

-------------------------------

He sat back on one of the large, smooth rocks, contented to watch as Teyla and Kelin sparred. He arched his brows as the two of them exchanged a flurry of blows, before backing way from each other and smiling. He shook his head. "Now I know I'm way outta my league here."

Kelin looked at him and smiled. "But you are improving, John."

John chuckled. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Kelin." Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned his head, his smile lingering, as Pertus walked up to him. John scooted over and made room for the boy to sit next to him. "How'd it go with Dr. Heightmeyer?" he asked quietly.

Pertus smiled. "She is nice. She just wanted to talk to me." He pushed himself back on the rock, pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them. "She wanted me to tell you she would like to talk to you when you have a chance."

John arched his brows. "She did, huh?" He looked up as Kelin and Teyla walked over to them.

"Go ahead, John," Kelin smiled, "I will see to it that Pertus goes to where he is supposed to be." Kelin flashed a warm smile at the boy, who returned it.

John nodded silently. He eased to his feet, and turned away, not looking back, or saying a word to any of them.

---------------------

As John walked away, Teyla watched him silently for a moment, before looking at her mentor. "Kelin?"

Kelin's smile was slight. "It has only been fourteen days, Teyla. Be patient. There is already change, even if he does not see it."

"Yes," Teyla once again watched John's retreating back, "but I…"

"Teyla."

Kelin's quiet interruption recaptured her attention. She watched him for a moment, as his shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh. When he finally locked gazes with her, there was a deep level of understanding in his eyes. "This will take time." Kelin's voice was deep and quiet. "And if he is to heal, he will be worse, before he gets better."

Teyla swallowed against her worry and broke eye contact. She stared at the ground and nodded slightly. Kelin's warm grip on her arms compelled her to look up at him. She felt her confidence return at the small but reassuring smile he gave her.

"John will find his strength, Teyla, and we will help him." She followed Kelin's gaze to Pertus, who had walked up next to her. She noted the worry in Pertus' expression, and briefly squeezed his shoulder in response.

Kelin knelt before the boy. "You share much with the Major, Pertus," Kelin held tight to Pertus' arms much in the same manner he had held Teyla's, "but, I believe you can help him as much as he helps you."

Teyla stared down at the boy, who was motionless for a moment before he swallowed hard and nodded slightly. Teyla inhaled deeply and looked back at Kelin. "Charin wishes to visit with Pertus, unless there is something else…?"

Kelin stood. "Not now." He looked down at the Pallan boy and smiled. "Go with Teyla, Pertus, until after the mid day meal. Then join us at the practice field."

Teyla nodded at Kelin and handed him her fighting sticks, before walking towards the settlement, Pertus close behind. "How do you like it here, Pertus?" she asked warmly. She looked down and met his smiling expression.

"It is much like home," Pertus' smile faded. He looked away from her and walked in silence.

Teyla nodded. "Yes." She looked around her, "it is. Pertus," Teyla's voice regained the boy's attention, "you are not the only one to have lost your home… and your family." Her expression was somber as she stopped and faced the boy. Squeezing his shoulder, she knelt. "The Wraith took my parents, and many people I cared about… and they destroyed my home world too. That is why we live here. Yet, through all of the loss, we go on with our lives. We never forget, but we do not dwell on it either."

Pertus nodded quietly. "I miss my parents, Teyla."

Teyla nodded in understanding. "As do I miss mine, Pertus, but here," she put her fist over her heart, "I carry them with me, and I know they would want me to live a full life, even without them to share it." She placed her hand over Pertus' heart. "I believe your parents would want the same."

Pertus swallowed hard. "Major Sheppard has bad dreams sometimes," he said abruptly.

Taken slightly aback by the boy's sudden change of subject, Teyla arched her brows. "The Major has his own losses to deal with, just like you, Pertus," she commented quietly.

"I know. I hear him at night sometimes. He thinks I do not know, but sometimes he wakes me. I pretend to be asleep, but many times he just leaves the tent." Pertus looked at Teyla, his innocent eyes wide. "I know he does not mean to wake me, but he cannot help it… just as my bad dreams wake him." Pertus bit his lower lip. "He tells me not to worry, and that I am safe…." His voice trailed off as Pertus looked away.

Teyla sighed. "Major Sheppard is right Pertus, you are safe. The Wraith do not know we are here, and Atlantis will protect if they do find out." Teyla stood. "Come, Charin has cooked some tuttleroot soup for us." She smiled. "You will like her."

Pertus smiled back, his expression again gaining some confidence as he walked along next to her.

-----------------------------

John entered the spacious tent and paused. He stared, unmoving at Heightmeyer's warm expression.

She gestured at the bench across from her. "John. Why don't you sit down?"

His gaze narrowed as he crossed the room and slowly sat.

Heightmeyer kept her smile. "How are you?"

John's reply was quiet. "Okay, all things considered." He swallowed. "How's Pertus?" He found his eyes automatically averted from her discerning gaze.

"He's better. You're doing very well with him."

"Good." He kept his gaze averted.

"That's not why I asked you in here, John," she continued. "How are _you_?" she repeated.

He chewed on his lower lip as he considered her words. _I feel like crap? I can't seem to care about Atlantis or anything I used to love? I'm always tired…_ "Okay, I guess."

"Just okay?" Her voice nudged him.

John sighed. "Did you expect me to be fine?" He glanced up at her, his gaze immediately captured by her slight smile.

"No, but I half expected you to say it anyway." She nodded slowly, more to herself than to him. "I'm encouraged that you didn't."

He couldn't pull his eyes from hers. She seemed so encouraged, but he couldn't see why. He felt his brows knit with worry an instant before he looked away from her.

"John? What is it? What's wrong?" Her voice was gentle, but insistent.

He couldn't look at her.

"John?"

John shook his head slowly. "I'm not… I don't…" He sighed heavily. Prolonged silence greeted him as he tried to find the words. He slowly looked up and into Heightmeyer's patient expression.

Her expression turned slightly imploring. "What is it, John?"

"I don't care." The words slipped quietly from his mouth, breaking the barrier that had strangled them. "Atlantis… I… I can't seem to care about it anymore. Atlantis, the expedition… my job. I can't seem to care about it." He pursed his lips. "And that worries the hell out of me."

She sighed and nodded at his admission. "John, you've only been gone a couple of weeks. Give it some time."

He shook his head. "What if it doesn't come back? I can't…."

"I think it will, in time," she interrupted quietly.

His gaze narrowed at her confident expression. "You're awfully sure."

She smiled. "Everything about this has you worried, John." She pointed at her chest. "I would be worried if you weren't."

He nodded slowly as he tried to wrap his mind around her words.

"Would it help if I said I think you're getting better?" she ventured quietly. "I have faith in your strength, John. I think you'll find your way back to the normal life you want."

He sighed. "I hope so." His reply sounded unconvinced even to his own ears.

"I know so, John."

He said nothing, the soft confidence in Heightmeyers voice doing nothing to persuade him. He stared at the floor, allowing the silence between them to linger. Finally, he heard her shift in her chair slightly.

"John, we have the time if you want to talk to me some more."

Slowly, he looked up and into her warm and reassuring expression.

"But, if you don't, that's okay too." She smiled slightly. "You may not see it, but I see improvement in you, John."

He nodded absently and stood. "I… I'm okay… for now." He headed for the door, only to be stopped by Heightmeyer's voice.

"I'll be back to check on you next week."

Not turning to face her, he nodded once and exited the tent.

----------------------------

The early morning dew touched his face as John crossed the settlement, a large basket of roots slung over his back. His legs were mildly sore and he was reminded of the day before. After his conversation with Heightmeyer, he had felt edgy throughout the entire afternoon with the kids. Once their training was over, he'd taken it upon himself to run the stress from his body, and what had started as a short run had practically turned into a marathon. Today, his legs let him know, in no uncertain terms, that he'd pushed it too far. But the physical discomfort was a trade off for the small measure of emotional ease he'd felt when he had returned late that evening.

Stopping before one of the tents, he cocked his head, listening for sounds from inside. "Hello?"

"Come inside," A female voice answered him, and he ducked through the opening. Stopping just inside the door, he eased the large basket of roots off his back, and looked up and directly into an elderly but wise female face. "Charin?" he asked, smiling as she nodded back in recognition.

"You must be Major Sheppard. I have heard about you." She smiled.

His smile deepened slightly. "That's me." He pointed at the basket of roots. "Laonid asked me to bring these over to you. Where would you like them?"

Charin stepped back and gestured to a nearby corner. "There would be fine, thank you, Major. I do not think I would have been able to carry it myself."

Squatting slightly, he once again picked up the large basket. "No problem." He crossed the room and set the basket where she had indicated. He brushed his hands over his thighs. "Well, I should get… going…." He started towards the door.

"Nonsense."

Charin's voice stopped him. Mildly confused, he turned and looked at her.

She smiled and gestured at the low table in the center of her tent. "Visit with me some, Major. At least take some water for your efforts."

He smiled at her. "Okay." He crossed the room and sat on one of the low benches. Almost immediately, she set a mug in front of him, along with a soft, fresh-baked roll. He took a long sip of water and smiled again. "Thank you." He broke off a piece of the roll as Charin rounded the table and slowly sat down opposite him. Her wise eyes looked him over, and he fidgeted slightly under her gaze.

"Teyla speaks highly of you, Major." Charin folded her hands on the table.

He swallowed his bite of the roll and grinned. "Call me John." Embarrassment crept into him. "Remind me to thank her," he muttered.

Charin smiled back. "Teyla Emmagan does not give her praise easily, John. You are welcome to visit my home at any time."

Genuine warmth flowed through him at Charin's generosity. He smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Charin." He made quick work of the last bits of the roll she'd given him and shrugged. "I may take you up on that, if you have more of those rolls around." He finished the last of his water and stood. "Thanks."

Charin slowly stood and smiled warmly at him. "From the beginning, you have treated Teyla and my people with respect and friendship, John. You brought Teyla back to again lead her people when we lost her to the Wraith. It is I that should thank you."

John swallowed, embarrassed by the woman's sincerity. He'd never considered what he'd done to have so much meaning, but seeing things from Charin's perspective changed that. Instinctively, he knew saving Teyla meant more to Charin than he could ever realize. At a loss for what to say, he settled on the simple. He nodded once. "You're welcome," he said quietly.

Charin slowly walked up to him and grabbed his arms. She bowed her head in the traditional Athosian way.

He reached up, gently squeezing the underside of her arms as he let his forehead touch hers.

"Go safely, John," she said quietly. She pulled back and smiled.

"And you." The words, part of the traditional Athosian reply, nonetheless held added meaning for him. Respect warmed him as he met eyes with her. Quietly, he turned and exited her tent.

As he stepped out into the bright sunshine, his mind raced at the abrupt change of perspective within him. Halling had started it, showing John how he'd made a difference in saving him so the man could once again be Jinto's father. At that time, it hadn't really sunk in. But now, with the added reaffirmation from Charin, John felt his understanding shift, and it ironically left him confused. So used to the darkness, so wrapped up in the lives he hadn't been able to save, he had lost sight of the ones he had saved… the people he'd rescued… and all the lives they impacted.

Inhaling deeply, John snapped himself from his thoughts. Kelin would be waiting, and frankly the distraction of sparring was welcome to John. Content to shuffle his confusion off to his subconscious, he trotted across the settlement towards the training field.

--------------------------------

Standing on the edge of the control room, her absent gaze fixed on the inactive Stargate and the off-world team milling around just before it, Elizabeth didn't hear Bates' voice at first. Her thoughts were a million miles away, passing over the half dozen little things she had to take care of, and always, lingering in the back of her mind, part of her dwelt on John.

"Ma'am?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath and faced Bates. She smiled slightly. "Sergeant?"

"Ma'am," Bates nodded once, curtly. "Stackhouse's team is ready to depart for M55-691."

"Thank you, Sergeant." Elizabeth looked up at Grodin and nodded. "Dial it up, Peter." She turned back, watching as the gate hummed to life. She watched Stackhouse lead his team through the gate. _It should be John…_

All the little things she needed to address suddenly lost their importance as her thoughts dwelled on John. A part of her had wanted, more than anything, to go to the mainland. To see him… to know he was okay. But, she resisted it. He needed space, time… a break. As much as she was impatient to know how he was doing, she knew she had to honor that space… that time away from Atlantis he desperately needed.

She turned, her gaze fixing on the not so distant exterior doors. Crossing the control deck, she swiped her hand over the door crystals and stepped out onto the Deck. As the doors closed behind her, securing her privacy, she let the mask of leadership fall from her face. She dropped her head, and pulled in a rough breath. Robbed of John's leadership… his unwavering support, she felt very much alone.

She crossed the Deck, the cold breeze and hint of rain sending a chill through her. Folding her arms against the coolness, she stared out over the city. From the beginning, she had tried to lead the team with unwavering strength. But, as time had passed, she'd realized that she and John had grown to lead the expedition together… a co-dependent role that brought the best of both of them to the forefront.

Wrapped in a diplomatic background, Elizabeth knew her thoughts… her perceptions swayed towards the complicated. _Making a mountain out of a molehill,_ Simon had once teased her. Everything was shades of gray to her, convoluted and often times ambiguous. She never doubted her ability to make difficult decisions: she'd done it all her life. But, never to the degree that she had in her time on Atlantis. The repercussions of her choices carried so much more weight.

A slight smile played at one corner of her mouth. Then there was John Sheppard. Elizabeth had seen how, unwavering in his confidence, he carried a remarkably strong moral and personal direction within him… a path he rarely strayed from. In his mind he knew what he thought was right, and had an uncanny knack for boiling down the most complicated problems into their basic black and white stands… a framework that fit his perspective. Elizabeth shook her head. Sometimes he had to cram a little to fit them into his perspective… and sometimes they didn't fit at all. But he always tried. It was in his nature.

Together, they'd found a comfortable balance… a middle ground between them that only strengthened the ability of both.

Elizabeth sighed. She wanted him back, needed his support, and missed his friendship. Resting her hands on the Deck railing, Elizabeth let the cold wind blow through her. It was a long time, before she returned inside Atlantis.

-------------------

"Ouch! Damn!" John winced as Kelin delivered a sharp blow to his bicep.

Kelin twirled one stick and frowned. "You are not paying attention, John."

John frowned. "Sorry." He pulled in a deep breath and assumed a defensive stance.

Kelin's attack came swiftly, and John found himself again backpedaling. He launched a brief offensive, driving Kelin back a few steps, only to find Kelin abruptly sliding inside his defense. Feeling one leg swept out from under him, he winced and fell to his other knee. Before he could react, Kelin's stick was pressed across his throat. Swallowing against the hard wood, John's sigh was resigned.

"What is on your mind, John?" Kelin asked as he pulled the stick away and backed up. "You are distracted."

John slowly stood. He rolled his shore shoulder and turned to face Kelin. His brows furrowed. "I'm not sure."

Kelin lowered his sticks, his gaze narrowing. "Do you wish to speak of it?"

John smiled slightly and shook his head. "I don't know that either." He sighed. "I'm not sure if I can explain it, actually."

"Do you wish to try?" Kelin asked patiently.

To this, John chuckled slightly. "It doesn't even make sense to me, Kelin." He sighed. "Forget it." He lifted his sticks and crouched slightly. "Where were we?"

Kelin stared a moment at him before also raising his sticks. "Attack me."

John's gaze narrowed. Abruptly, he lunged at Kelin. His attack was short lived, as he suddenly found himself flat on his back. "Damn it," he muttered.

Kelin looked down at him. "That was reckless, John, even for you." He extended his hand and pulled John to his feet. "Perhaps you should try to tell me what is bothering you?"

John sighed. He lifted his left hand, wiping his arm across his sweaty brow as he walked over to one of the bordering rocks. He dropped his sticks and slowly sat. He looked up as Kelin walked over and silently stood before him. "I spoke with Charin this morning…." John's voice trailed off as Kelin chuckled quietly.

"She has that effect on people," Kelin answered, responding to John's questioning look. "Charin is one of the wisest people I have ever met, John."

John nodded. "High praise coming from you." He smiled slightly as Kelin arched his brows in response. John's smile faded. "Something struck me as I left her tent."

"I gather you do not mean physically?" Kelin replied quietly, light amusement coloring his eyes.

John grinned briefly. "No, but I almost feel like someone might have beat some sense into my head…." His brows crinkled. "I think…." Abruptly, he stood. "Hell, I don't know." He paced a few steps away from Kelin and turned back, quickly.

Kelin stared at him a moment, before nodding slowly. "What did Charin say to you, John?"

"She thanked me for saving Teyla… for saving the leader of your people." John ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "And it occurred to me that Halling said something similar when I first got here. It just never sunk in. Halling thanked me for bringing him back to Jinto." He shrugged. "I guess… I just didn't realize how that… I mean how much…." He let out a loud sigh.

"How much good you have done?" Kelin quietly supplied.

John froze. He stared at Kelin for a moment before nodding slowly. "Yeah… I guess that's it."

Kelin smiled slightly. "It is easy to dwell on the bad and not see the good, John. You have done much for your people, and for ours." His smile broadened slightly. "I am glad that you are beginning to see that."

John's expression sobered. "I'm not sure what to think, Kelin," he admitted quietly. "I should be happy for the people I've helped, but at the same time, I don't want to forget the ones I couldn't help… the ones I lost."

Kelin nodded and stepped closer to John. "Nor should you forget them. It is a delicate balance, John, but one you must find. Never forget the ones you have lost, but always remember the ones you have helped… the lives you have made a difference in." He smiled. "Even in small ways, count your victories. You may not have saved any of the boys or Myella from certain death, but you have guided them, shared your knowledge, and helped them grow to adulthood. That is a victory, and those are lives you have made a difference in." Kelin stepped back. "Come. It is nearly time for the midday meal." He turned and walked towards the storage box.

John bent over and picked up his sticks. He stood there for a moment, watching Kelin's retreating back. Kelin's words stuck with him.

_Remember the ones you have helped… the lives you have made a difference in…_

The haunting memories of Palla clung to him, but quietly, a balance came forward within him. For everyone he'd lost, he found someone he'd helped, saved… made a difference to. He couldn't shake the darkness that clung to him, but deep inside, he began to find balance for his pain… and for his life.

Like night versus day, that balance contrasted with the darkness inside him that he refused to face. But, the strife between what he couldn't leave behind him and the balance before him weighed him down… kept him from taking any more steps down the path towards being John Sheppard again… and keenly he knew it. The more he found balance, the more starkly he felt that spot of pain within him. Like a dark cloud on a sunny day, it was always there, something he couldn't help but see, no matter how hard he tried to dismiss it. Part of him told him to face it, but he couldn't. He feared it's effect, loathed its presence and, like he'd done so often since his capture, he turned away from it. But, even as he did, he couldn't deny it's lingering presence. Slowly, he walked after Kelin.

--------------------------

John's life fell into a routine, and he felt himself relax into it. He began to find joys in the simple meals shared with Halling, Jinto and a small core of Athosians; satisfaction in the improvements he made training with Kelin; and gratification in helping guide the young Athosians, and Pertus, as they started down the path to adulthood. He would've been lying to himself if he'd thought for a second that everything within him was smooth and normal, but, as the days passed into weeks, he began to find a perspective to his life. He began to see the simple contentment of a day of honest work, and every day when he woke, he looked forward to his day.

His routine conversations with Heightmeyer helped him find perspective, but it was the sessions with Kelin that really helped him. The wise Athosian man had a way of putting him at ease, and he found contentment in that relaxed atmosphere.

----------------------

The routine, appearances of the Jumper didn't surprise him any more, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of worry every time one appeared on the horizon. But, today, as he watched the Jumper settle to the ground, he found his thoughts wandering to the Ancient city. How were things? The team? The missions? Exploring the city? John shook his head, feeling a bit overwhelmed at the thought of how much he'd missed, and, as swiftly as it appeared, all interest left him. He walked to the edge of the settlement and stopped, watching as two figures made their way towards him. He couldn't keep the surprise from his face as he recognized Rodney and Teyla… and Heightmeyer was nowhere in sight.

John's gaze narrowed as he cautiously nodded at both of them. He looked past Rodney before arching an eyebrow at him. "You flew?"

Rodney's expression turned annoyed. "Yes! Just a jump to the mainland!"

"Why?" John immediately asked.

Rodney sighed loudly. "Why not? Sooner or later I have to learn to fly the damn thing in a straight line." he retorted.

John wasn't buying it. "It's not like you to play chauffeur, McKay." John's expression turned slightly amused as he cocked an eyebrow at Teyla, who smiled. The consistency… predictability of Rodney's acerbic comments sparked a light humor in John, as he felt himself fall easily into the banter they shared.

"Dr. Weir," Teyla jumped in before Rodney could reply, "thought it would be a good way for Dr. McKay to practice his flying."

"Apparently, I'm the only one who thinks I have better things to be doing!" Rodney groused.

John shook his head, before he met Teyla's lingering gaze. "So," John turned his attention to Teyla, "what brings you here?"

She smiled. "I wish to visit with Charin, that is all."

"Ah, yes, Charin." John nodded. "She's quite a woman."

Teyla's smile broadened. "Yes, she is. You have met her then?"

"Yeah," John nodded again, "a couple of times. She's been pretty nice to me."

Teyla zipped the front of her jacket before she looked intently at John. "She has a great respect for you, Major. With Charin, that is a high compliment."

Silently, John nodded.

Turning and walking away, Teyla stopped and looked back at him. "Come join us later, if you wish. I am sure she would like to see you again."

John forced a small smile. "Will do."

As Teyla walked towards the settlement, he looked back to Rodney.

Rodney snorted once, quietly. "I have work to do." He started back across the field towards the Jumper.

John caught up with him. "So, what are you up to?"

Rodney glanced sideways at him. "What?"

"What are you doing?" John raised his voice slightly.

Rodney shrugged. "Working out a rotating schedule for the naquada generators to conserve power."

"Oh." John's voice trailed off into an uncomfortable silence.

"So." Rodney's voice broke the silence. "You look… well."

John's brow arched cynically as he glanced at Rodney. "Thanks." Silence fell between them again and John let it linger for a minute. "How're things on Atlantis?" he asked quietly.

Rodney shrugged. "Oh, you know, the same stuff. Off-world missions, exploring the city…."

John looked away as Rodney's voice trailed off. He inhaled deeply, his gaze fixing on the horizon, and the distant mountains. "I should be there." His statement was half hearted.

"Damn right."

John stopped in his tracks. He tore his gaze from the horizon and narrowed it at Rodney. "What?"

Rodney stared evenly at him. "You should be. So, when are you coming back?"

John swallowed. "I… don't know." He walked away from Rodney.

An exasperated sigh preceded Rodney's words. "What's that supposed to mean?" Rodney briskly caught up with him and walked beside him. "We really do need you, you know. Hanging out on the mainland really isn't your style."

Mildly frustrated, John shot a warning glance at Rodney. "What do you want from me, McKay?"

"How about the truth?" Rodney retorted instantly.

John stiffened. "What the hell does that mean?" His voice took on a sad, quiet tone. "You know what happened…."

"Yes, yes, I know. You couldn't help Cooper and you watched him die because of it. You were too late to help Brianor or the Pallans…." Rodney waved his hands. "I've heard it all before. You've got that answer practiced, Major, and you've tried to convince everyone, including yourself, that's it's the only reason you bury yourself in pity and guilt. But I'm not buying it. There's something else there, Major. What else is eating you?"

"Be careful, McKay." John felt his anger rise as Rodney's words hit close to home. "We're friends, but that only gets you so far."

"Really?" Rodney shot back. "Well, I've never been one for boundaries so I'll ask you again. What the hell is your problem?"

John's anger surged. "Back off!" He stalked across the field, turning away from the Jumper.

"No!" Rodney relentlessly pursued John. "Not until you tell me the whole truth! Because something is eating you up inside, and it has nothing to do with Cooper, or Brianor, or anyone else you've lost to the Wraith!" Exasperated, Rodney sighed loudly and shook his head. "What is it, Major? Because you're sure as hell not telling Heightmeyer!" He stopped and watched John's retreating back. "So, why don't you tell me?"

John spun and stalked back to Rodney with an angered speed that caused Rodney to involuntarily step back. "Since when did you become a damn shrink? What makes you think you know anything about me?"

His expression resolute, Rodney's eyes narrowed and he raised his chin in a typically arrogant move as he stared evenly back at John. "I've seen you face down the Wraith, the Genii, Ancient technology, kids with crossbows…" he shrugged, "and never once did you lose your cool, or your head… until this."

A wave of panic crashed against John's anger. _I broke… _Defensiveness flowed through him. "You have no idea what you're talking about!" John's eyes quickly passed over Rodney's body. "Not that I have to justify a damn thing to you." He abruptly turned away and stalked across the field.

"What about Teyla?"

Rodney's quiet voice pierced John's defensive barrier. He froze, his anger dissolving. The ache and pain he carried... had carried since his time on the Wraith ship, was familiar. Constantly flowing through him, a part of John had grown accustomed to it... let it rule him... excuse him from having to face life. All his bad decisions, and reclusive behavior, he conveniently blamed on it. It was a crutch... and one he wasn't sure he was ready to give up. But he didn't turn to face Rodney as he answered,"You wouldn't understand." His excuse was weak, and he knew it, but his mind was reeling, and no other words came to him.

He stared out across the field and felt – more than saw or heard –Rodney walk up next to him. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and watched Rodney shift his weight in slight discomfort.

"You know, Major, I'm not the most sympathetic person. I don't talk well... or listen…" Rodney sighed loudly.

His obvious discomfort briefly pulled at one corner of John's mouth.

"My point is," Rodney went on, "if you wanted to tell me anything, I'd listen." He shifted his weight uncomfortably.

John's moment of fleeting humor faded as quickly as it came. His gaze grew distant as he stared unfocused at the far-off mountains. The silence between him and Rodney dragged on, yet, John's mind raced. His thoughts were jumbled, and nothing coherent made it to his mouth. To his credit, Rodney stood quietly, not pushing, but not leaving either. Through his rolling emotions, John keenly felt the strangeness that Rodney, of all people, stood ready to listen to him. The incredible irony of the situation faded within John as he pulled in one ragged breath after another. The darkness inside pushed at his control….

Finally, John found some words.

"After Cooper was...," John's voice trailed off. He pulled in a deep breath through his nose and tried again. "After Cooper... died, I thought I was next. The Wraith, he... crossed the room to me, and I thought I was going to die. I had so many thoughts, McKay. Atlantis, my dad, the team. But, I was... proud that I hadn't told them anything." He shook his head, his words flowing more easily in spite of the hard memories they stirred. "I don't know why, but the Wraith didn't kill me right there. They took me back to the cell and left me." John's lips twitched as he struggled to find the right words. "I was alone for a long time. I... couldn't help but think about Cooper's death. I was so frustrated... and angry." His brows furrowed as painful memories swept over him. "Then they... came back for me, but it was... different." John clenched his jaw, fighting through the painful memories. He could still feel the stun blasts... the agony... the helplessness. "They... tortured me, Rodney," he whispered.

"I know."

John glanced over at Rodney, surprise weaseling its way into his thoughts. "You do?"

Rodney nodded. "Beckett suspected as much, but you wouldn't talk about it, so we didn't push you. Elizabeth figured you'd tell Heightmeyer, or someone, when you were ready."

John nodded quietly as he mulled over Rodney's words. "Guess so." Once again he looked out across the horizon. He was quiet for a few minutes and a small part of him was mildly surprised that Rodney said nothing either. Rodney never struck John as the patient type. A knot of pain twisted his gut as his thoughts drifted back to his captivity. "All I could think about was how bravely Cooper had died. And how I wouldn't tell them anything, but they kept asking... kept torturing me with the stunners." His breathing quickened as his voice started shaking. "They kept asking, kept shooting me. The pain…" His head dropped. "It was agony," he whispered. "I can't imagine anything worse. I don't think I could survive anything worse…" His eyes slid shut as the vivid memory of pain stole his voice. He could still feel the stunner blast... the pain... see the Wraith Lord's dispassionate eyes watching him... feel the fear as he adjusted the stunner before each shot. He felt the cold floor beneath his writhing body... the fire that raced through him... the terror of not being able to breathe….

"Take it easy, Major. You're okay now."

Rodney's voice sounded distant as John struggled to control his memories. He pulled in a deep breath and opened his eyes. He glanced over at Rodney, who was staring intently. "I'm okay," he whispered. Pulling his gaze from the concerned doctor, he stared down at the tall grass. "I was scared," his admission was hard, but he pushed forward. "Part of me wanted to do anything to not be stunned again..." he furrowed his brows, guilt storming through him, "even if it meant telling them what they wanted to hear." He glanced sideways, watching as Rodney slowly nodded.

"Did you?"

John shook his head and stared hard at Rodney. "No." His voice was resolute.

"Then what...?" Rodney started.

"Don't you get it?" John's voice rose slightly, "I don't know if I would've been able to fight it off... to resist them if they'd had a chance to torture me again!" He turned away and ran a frustrated hand through his lengthening hair. "The pain was..." He closed his eyes. "I couldn't... they…" His shoulders slumped as he struggled to find the right words. Guilt flooded through him. "They broke me."

Rodney's voice was confused. "I thought you didn't tell them anything?"

He whirled back to face Rodney. "I didn't! But something happened, something that ended the session…" John stared hard at Rodney. "He was going to shoot me again... ask more questions... and I don't know if I would've been able to stop myself from answering." He turned away, guilt nearly overwhelming him. He took a deep breath, then another, as he tried to quell his surging emotions. His breathing slowed as he realized Rodney had remained silent. He turned and stared at the carefully neutral expression on Rodney's face.

"Huh," Rodney grunted "I thought I was the pessimist."

Confusion swept through John, stealing any reply.

"You don't know for sure," Rodney went on, "but you've decided anyway." He looked away for a moment. "You know? That's just not like you. You're the first one to be the optimist, as annoying as it sometimes is." His gaze returned to John's face. "Where did this come from?" Slightly uncomfortable, he shrugged. "I don't think you're right, you know. You're too…" his voice trailed off, his discomfort obviously increasing. "You wouldn't do it. You wouldn't give us up."

John shook his head, the rare compliment by Rodney nearly lost on him. "I'm not so sure." His gaze narrowed as Rodney shuffled his feet, his expression taking on the familiar arrogant tone.

"Yeah, well, I am." Rodney stared hard at John for a long moment before turning away. Instead of heading to the Jumper, he started towards the village.

John watched him go. Rodney's words passed by him and he dismissed them. Painful, the memories assaulted him, eroded his control. He closed his eyes. Sucking in a deep breath, he pushed down the memories, buried the feelings, and clung to his control. After a minute, he opened his eyes. Slowly, he crossed the field after Rodney. Catching up with him, he cleared his throat. "I thought you had work to do." His voice was low as he awkwardly started a new conversation.

Rodney grunted quietly. "Not really."

John stopped as he again watched Rodney walk on. Confusion swept through him and he stared at the amber, late summer grass under his feet. Since when did Rodney not really have work to do…

He looked up, the confusion inside him fading. His gaze took on a calculating look. He shook his head slowly and jogged after Rodney.

----------------------------------

Teyla smiled up at Charin as she poured tea. "It is good to see you well, Charin." Teyla wrapped her hands around the warm cup.

Charin slowly sat opposite Teyla and smiled. "And you, Teyla." She sipped her own tea.

Teyla arched her brows. "It is good to be back here with our people. Life on Atlantis is well enough, but I feel the pull of my people strongly."

Charin smiled. "You are Tagan's daughter. I would expect nothing else." She reached across the table and patted Teyla's hand. "Tell me why you are here, Teyla."

Teyla smiled, her lips twitching in amusement at Charin's intuitive look. She sighed. "I treasure the time I spend with you, Charin."

"Teyla. There is more to your visit than me." Charin shook her head.

Teyla nodded. "Yes." She looked away for a moment, then back to Charin's face. "Major Sheppard," she said quietly.

Charin nodded knowingly. "I thought as much." She shook her head. "Teyla Emmagan, you are impatient sometimes." Charin's smile widened slightly. "Much as your father."

Teyla nodded absently. "I am worried for him, Charin."

"He will find his path. You must have faith in that," Charin responded quietly. "Kelin, myself, the children… in our own ways we are helping him."

"Some do not find their path," Teyla countered quietly, "I fear he may be one of those."

"I do not."

The confident tone of Charin's voice grabbed Teyla's attention. She stared deeply into Charin's eyes.

"We will help him find his path, Teyla. You must believe that."

Silently, Teyla nodded. Her attention was diverted by footsteps outside Charin's tent.

"Charin?"

Teyla wiped the hesitation from her face at the sound of John's voice.

Charin smiled. "Come in, John."

Teyla smiled as John appeared through the doorway, Rodney right behind.

John nodded at her before smiling at Charin. He pointed behind at Rodney. "I brought a guest, hope you don't mind."

Charin slowly stood. She reached out to Rodney. "Not at all."

Teyla arched a brow as Rodney stared uncomfortably at Charin's hands.

"McKay," the Major prompted quietly.

"Right." Rodney reached out, taking Charin's hands. "Dr. Rodney McKay."

Charin nodded back. "Welcome to my home, Dr. McKay."

Teyla watched as John and Rodney seated themselves at Charin's table. John seemed relaxed, but behind the veil of comfort, Teyla could see the pain that still shadowed his eyes. Charin's words came back to her.

_We will help him find his path, Teyla. You must believe that…._

Teyla smiled and nodded as she made eye contact with John. Deep inside, she hoped Charin was right.

----------------------------------------

"Four, two, three," John ordered, reflecting each measured blow as Myella worked through the basic disarming moves. He stepped back and smiled. "Good. You're improving, Myella."

Myella lowered her sticks and smiled slightly. "Thank you, Major."

John nodded back. "You're welcome." He stared at her a moment, noticing the slight sigh that passed through her. He cocked his head, lowering it slightly as he tried to capture her averted gaze. "What's wrong?"

Myella shook her head. "Nothing."

His brows arched. "Nothing, huh? Looks like a pretty important nothing." Crossing his feet, he eased to the ground. He settled his fighting sticks across his lap and looked plainly at her. "Well?"

She bit her lip slightly, before slowly sitting down opposite him.

He smiled encouragingly but said nothing.

"I did not…" Myella sighed and stared at the ground. She absently pulled small shoots of grass from the dirt. "My snares are still empty."

"It's okay." John ventured quietly.

"It is not!" Myella's response was emphatic. "Kelin, my parents, everyone believes the path of the hunter is the path I am meant to follow. Yet, I am failing."

"Myella," John reasoned quietly, "all that aside, do you believe this is your path?"

She looked up at him, not trying to hide the tears of frustration in her eyes. "Yes. I want it to be, but yet, I am failing at following it." Her head dropped.

"Major Sheppard?"

John looked over his shoulder as Sorbus approached. They boy's gaze was uncertain as he realized he was interrupting something. John smiled. "What is it, Sorbus?"

"Kelin has dismissed us for the day. I came to see if Myella…" His voice trailed off.

John smiled. "Go ahead. Myella will catch up with you later."

Sorbus nodded quietly and walked away.

John watched him for a moment, as he joined up with the other boys and they left the practice field. He returned his attention to Myella. He sighed quietly. "You know," he ventured, "I never really had good aim when I first learned how to shoot…." His voice trailed off as he waited for some reaction from Myella.

Slowly, the girl looked up at him, her expression turning confused.

John smiled slightly. "In fact," he continued, "my aim sucked." He pulled a piece of grass and chewed on the end. "I wanted to be a soldier more than anything, but for a while I wondered if I was going to be able to."

Myella's head dropped again, but her curiosity won out over her silent brooding. "What did you do?"

He smiled warmly at her. "I practiced… and I didn't give up. It's what I wanted, so I refused to give up. All the sudden, one day, I was good at it… and I never looked back." John let the silence sit for a moment before speaking again. "Myella?"

Slowly, the girl looked up.

He smiled again. "Don't give up. You'll get it, just like I did."

She swiped a hand over her cheeks and nodded.

"Good," he agreed. "Now, go on. Catch up with Sorbus and the others, and have some fun for a while, okay?" Her smile was small, but he took it as a victory. "Go on," he insisted.

Myella jumped to her feet and walked away from him. As she exited the practice field and approached the settlement, her walk turned to a jog.

His smile lingered as he watched her until she disappeared from sight.

"That was well handled, my friend."

He looked over his shoulder as Kelin slowly approached. "You heard?" His voice was slightly surprised.

Kelin shook his head. "No, but I watched. Whatever you said, worked."

John stood. "She's just feeling a little lost right now. She said it was her problems with the snares, but I think it's probably more." He shrugged. "I think she's a little insecure about what she's supposed to do with her life."

Kelin nodded as he joined John and they walked together across the practice field. "That is not surprising. Myella is very different than her parents. I believe she feels… isolated." Kelin's expression turned bemused. "And you believed you would not be useful with the children."

John placed his fighting sticks, and Myella's, into the protective box. He chuckled quietly. "I just told her not to give up, that's all." John pulled the oiled skin over the box and turned away from it. He paused as Kelin's hand settled on his shoulder. He met Kelin's knowing gaze.

"That is more than you give yourself credit for, my friend." Kelin held John's gaze for a long moment.

Slightly embarrassed, John nodded silently. He broke Kelin's grip and walked away. After a moment, he glanced sideways and smiled, as Kelin walked silently beside him.

--------------------------

_John stumbled heavily, trying to keep his feet as the Wraith guard all but threw him forward into a large room. He looked around, his gut cramping in barely controlled panic as he recognized the room on the Wraith Lord's hive ship. He spun and swallowed hard as Fred walked slowly towards him, a stunner rifle pointed at his chest._

"_Tell me that which I wish to know," Fred hissed._

_John's eyes widened in fear, "I can't." He felt himself thrown backwards as a stunner blast enveloped him in pain. His shout echoed around him._

"_Tell me!"  
_

"_NO!" His defiance was rewarded by another blast. Pain… all encompassing, tortured him, tore a hoarse scream from him… before stealing his breath. Suffocating panic gripped him as he writhed in agony._

"_Tell me!"_

_Finding breath, John's voice cracked. "Please…"_

_An image of Brianor flashed by him. "John!"_

"_NO!!"_

John bolted straight up in bed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looked around… and directly into the eyes of Pertus.

Sitting quietly on the edge of his bed, Pertus' eyes were wide with fear. "Major Sheppard?"

John braced his hands on his knees, and dropped his head, trying to regain control of his surging emotions. He felt wetness on his cheeks and reached up, swiping one hand over his face. He closed his eyes against the nightmare images burned into his mind. His racing thoughts abruptly halted as he felt a warm squeeze on his forearm. Opening his eyes, he looked down, his gaze fixing on Pertus' hand.

He looked up and into Pertus' innocent gaze. The boy swallowed hard.

"You are safe," he said, quietly. "That is what you tell me when I have a bad dream." Pertus bit his lower lip hesitatingly. "You tell me I am safe and not to worry."

John just stared wordlessly at the boy. His emotional tidal wave began to ease and the sweat on his brow left him chilled. Slowly, he reached up and ran a hand down the side of Pertus' head.

Pertus scooted closer to him and hugged John tightly.

After a moment, John returned the gesture. "You're right," he whispered quietly. After a moment longer, he pulled away and lay down on his bed. As he closed his eyes, he felt mildly surprised as the boy lay down next to him and across his arm. It was a long while before he could sleep but, through his surging emotions, he felt the comfort of one small boy, and drew strength from it.

---------------------------

"One, two, three," Kelin recited as John moved through three basic moves, his mock blows meeting Kelin's sticks with resounding cracks. "Again!" Kelin urged, "one, two, three. Good." Kelin stepped back and nodded. "You still drop your shoulder, John, and that weakens your blow. But," he smiled, "you are improving."

John smiled back. "There's hope for me yet?" he quipped.

Kelin chuckled. "I would not waste my time with you if I thought otherwise."

To this, John laughed quietly. "Thanks." He reached up and wiped some sweat from his brow. "Kelin, can I ask you a question?"

Kelin arched a brow. "Of course."

John backed up a few feet and sat down on one of the boulders bordering the practice field. "You've shown me at least a dozen different way to cripple or disarm an opponent, and while I see how any combination of those moves could injure or kill, you've never shown me a killing blow." His gaze hardened slightly. "Why?"

Kelin arched his brows and nodded slightly. "I wondered when you would ask me that." His gaze turned slightly confused at John's chuckle. "What is it?"

"You always seem to be one step ahead of me. How do you do that?"

Now it was Kelin's turn to chuckle before his expression turned sincere. "By observation, John. You can learn much about a person without ever asking."

Respect dominated John's expression for a moment, before he nodded slowly.

Kelin sat down on a rock next to him. "You asked of killing moves?"

John pulled a foot up on the rock and wrapped his arms around his knee. "Yep."

"There are a few," Kelin replied quietly.

John nodded. "Thought so. Why haven't you shown me?"

Kelin arched both brows. "You are not ready. To kill, John, you must be sure of what you are doing, because there is no second chance."

John's gaze hardened. "I've killed before, Kelin. I know the stakes."

"You still are not ready." Kelin insisted.

John bristled, irritation rising in him. "What are you talking about?"

"Since your… experience, you carry much inside you." Kelin stared evenly at John's hostile expression. "The control is not there."

Kelin's words hit close to home and, deep inside, John knew it. He tore his gaze from Kelin and silently fumed.

"Tell me I am wrong, John," Kelin stated plainly.

Angry, John clenched his jaw. "I can't," he spat. The admission was hard, and one he didn't want to make, but he couldn't turn away from it. Anger flashed in his eyes as he watched Kelin abruptly stand.

"Work it out, John. At the very least, work the stress from your body. Stop letting it poison your spirit." Kelin gestured at the practice dummy. "Show me the twelve disarming moves I have taught you."

"Kelin," John's words were cold, "I don't think…."

"Show me!" Kelin raised his voice, cutting off John's protest.

Anger sparking in his hazel eyes, John glared at Kelin. He shot to his feet, his grip white knuckled on his fighting sticks. He stalked to the practice dummy and delivered a smashing blow to the dummy's side. "One!" he shouted. His other stick came around and smashed into what passed as the dummy's knee. "Two!" He quickly worked through the list of moves and stepped back. Sweat formed on his brow. "Happy?" He spat.

"No." Kelin answered plainly. "Do it again."

John glared but approached the dummy anyway. In a small way, it did feel good to him to have an outlet, but that positive feeling was quickly buried in anger. "One!"

"Who was Cooper?" Kelin shot at him.

John faltered. He stared wordlessly at Kelin.

"Show me six!" Kelin pointed at the dummy, his voice commanding.

John delivered a crushing blow to the dummy's upper arm. "Six!"

"Who was Cooper? Eight!" Kelin's voice was forceful.

John savagely brought his stick down on the dummy's wrist. "Eight! He was under my command!"

"Two! What happened to him?" Kelin pressed John, forced him to comply.

John felt his control slipping and he was in no mood to fortify it. He backhanded the dummy's knee. "Two! The Wraith tortured and killed him right in front of me!" He jumped ahead of Kelin's next command. He smashed his stick into the dummy's side. "One!" He stepped back, but Kelin was not finished with him.

"Show me ten! Why didn't you stop it?" Kelin badgered John, his barrage of questions tearing down his defenses.

John spun and landed a blow across the dummy's back. "I couldn't stop them! I couldn't help him! No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, they killed him anyway!" His control nearly gone, his blows started falling rapidly in succession. He whirled, his stick whipping around and delivering a crushing blow to the fighting dummy's head. His hard earned and well-defined control slipped and he brought his other stick up, laying a crippling blow to the target's midsection. "He died and I couldn't stop it!" The sticks slipped from his grasp as he doubled up his right fist and drove it deep into the practice dummy.

"And Brianor?"

His control slipped further. "They killed her! And her son…." He savagely punched the dummy. "Just a child… a… baby… the bastards killed them!" His brutal blows rained down on the target. "Fed on them!" He delivered a staggering right cross to the dummy's head. "Murdered them!"

"What else?" Kelin's voice needled John. "What else is there, John?"

John's left fist followed his right one. "Nothing! Isn't that enough?" He slammed his right fist again into the target, vaguely aware of stinging pain in his knuckles.

"No!" Kellin shouted.

John sidestepped the swinging dummy as Kelin shoved it towards him. Employing a tactic Kelin taught him, he spun and back fisted the target. "Damn it!" He slammed his left fist into the target again. "God damn it!"

"What else is there, John? What is rotting your soul? Tell me!" Kelin kicked the target and sent it wheeling at him.

Rage overwhelmed him. Emotions... deep, dark... sinister haunted him. That place… that dark spot within him called out, begging to be heard. He'd fought to control it, to deny it, to leave it behind him… but always it eroded at his control, finally breaking through.

"They caught me!" He punched the target mercilessly. "They hurt me!" Another hit. "Tortured me!" Two more hits. "They broke me!" Hatred, helplessness, pain all surged over him as he punched the target again and again. Sweat poured off his brow, his muscles screamed in protest, his breath was ragged, but the pain within him was relentless and pushed his endurance to the breaking point. Blow after blow fell on the practice dummy. Once faced… one acknowledged, his rage refused to be controlled. It surged over his carefully built barriers. Swept up in a rush of hate, his knuckles burned, the broken skin bleeding freely, yet he continued his assault until, at last, exhaustion overwhelmed him.

His legs buckled and he fell to his knees, the practice dummy still swinging back and forth next to him. He stared at his blood covered, shaking hands as words escaped him. He looked up at Kelin, who stood quietly at the edge of the practice field, his expression neutral.

Slowly, Kelin crossed the field until he reached John. Stopping, the Athosian man knelt and placed a strong hand on his shoulder. "You must let the anger go, John."

John reached up and ran a shaking hand over his forehead, leaving a smear of blood behind. "They... broke me, Kelin. As hard as I tried... the stronger I tried to be, the more they hurt me... hurt Cooper. No matter what I did, it wasn't good enough. Wasn't enough to save him… to help me… The stunners... the pain…" His strangled voice trailed off as his vision blurred. He dropped his head as words caught in his constricted throat.

Vaguely aware that Kelin's strong grip never wavered, he finally felt his control shatter. From deep inside him, all the rage, hate, and denial he'd so carefully controlled surged forward. A knot in his chest sent stabs of pain outward. Great heaving sobs tore through him, and he screamed his anger against the unfairness… the pain of everything. Disconnected, he heard his primal shout echoed off the trees. His lungs burned for air, and he pulled in a loud shuddering breath. His chest heaved, and he felt wetness on his cheeks, as his clasped hands cradled his head, his arm savagely pushing Kelin's hand away.

He rocked back and forth on his knees, desperately trying to escape the pain that was almost more than he could bear. His lungs burned and he struggled to pull ragged breaths through his constricted throat. The pain that surged through him… outward from that dark place deep inside, tortured him. He lost track of time as he sat there, consumed in his grief, surrendered to his pain and helpless to stop any of it. Through blurred eyes, he could see Kelin sitting close by, but the Athosian man remained silent. Still, he felt his presence, and drew strength from his closeness.

Wrung out… exhausted, he finally felt his emotional tidal wave ebb. In its wake it left him drained, his head pounding, and his stomach doing summersaults. He swallowed against his nausea and looked up at Kelin. Eyes puffed and painful, his vision was blurred, but he still saw the look of deep understanding on Kelin's face.

"That was long overdue, my friend." Kelin commented quietly.

John blinked hard, Kelin's statement lost on his numb mind. Words escaped him, and he sat in stunned silence.

Kelin slowly stood and extended his arm. "Take my hand, John."

He stared at Kelin's hand, his scrambled brain trying to process the man's words. He blinked hard but remained motionless.

"John," Kelin's voice was soft and understanding. "Take my hand. You are going to be fine."

Slowly, John reached one shaking hand up and weakly grasped Kelin's. He felt Kelin's grip tighten around his, as the Athosian pulled gently but insistently on his arm.

"Stand up, John. Let us go to your tent."

Somehow, in John's addled brain, he managed to pull his legs under himself and stand. He felt weak, but drew strength from Kelin's strong grip on his elbow.

"Slowly now, John." Kelin started walking, supporting him as he shakily stumbled along.

He felt as if his mind had shut down. He didn't know what to think, how to act or even if he trusted himself to walk, relying on instinct to guide his feet. Vaguely aware of voices, he nonetheless focused his sight on the path below his feet, his grip tightening on Kelin's arm, a gesture that was returned.

"What has happened?"

Laonid's voice reached John's ears, but he still found he could do no more than concentrate on where his feet fell.

"Find Halling and have him come to the Major's tent," Kelin answered quietly. Again, John felt Kelin's grip tighten. "The Major will be all right, but I would have Halling join us," Kelin added.

"Kelin, what…?" Laonid started.

"Now, Laonid, please," Kelin interrupted quietly, but firmly. John somehow found comfort in the calmness he radiated.

"Major Sheppard?"

Myella's young voice grabbed John's attention. He slowly looked up and into her innocent, concerned gaze. Fighting against the numbness that surrounded him, a brief glimmer of concern flashed through him. He tried a small smile, but somehow the gesture was lost.

"Myella."

Kelin's voice again. John's gaze fell to the ground as they continued to his tent.

"Myella, child, listen to me." Kelin admonished lightly. "Go to the creek and bring back some water. Then find some clean cloths and join us in the Major's tent. We must tend to his hands."

"Kelin…?" Myella started.

"Myella, now." Kelin hardened his tone slightly, before allowing it to soften again. "Do not worry, child, the Major will be fine."

"Yes, Kelin."

John could hear her light footsteps as she dashed off to do Kelin's bidding.

Kelin paused at the entrance to John's tent and pulled back the furs. He led John inside and over to his sleeping pallet, slowly helping John to sit. Kelin knelt. "John?"

John blinked hard and slowly grabbed his temples. He felt like his head was going to explode.

"John? Listen to me."

Kelin's voice was reassuring and John slowly looked into the Athosian's patient eyes.

Kelin smiled slightly. "You are going to be fine. We will dress your hands, then I want you to sleep, all right?"

Still in shock, John slowly nodded. A chill ran through him and must've been visible to Kelin because, almost instantly, he felt a warm fur pelt settle over his shoulders. He managed to look up as motion in the doorway caught both his and Kelin's attention.

Halling stopped just inside the tent and stared at John.

John's gaze drifted back to the floor. He felt unable to make eye contact with Halling.

Halling's deep voice penetrated his shock. "It has happened then," he stated simply.

A spark of confusion flickered briefly in John, before it was smothered by deadened emotions.

"It has." Kelin replied quietly.

Again, motion grabbed John's attention. He looked up as Halling stepped sideways, allowing Myella to enter the tent. Slightly breathless, she stopped in the doorway and looked to Kelin for guidance.

"Set the water and cloths on the table, Myella, then you may leave," Kelin directed her quietly.

John briefly made eye contact with Myella as she nodded and crossed to the table. Depositing her armful of supplies and bucket full of water, she stepped back and hesitated. She stared at John, her innocent eyes holding his gaze.

"Myella," Kelin admonished quietly, "you may go child."

"The Major…" Myella started, only to be interrupted by Halling.

"Myella," Halling's deep voice held a hint of warning.

John stared at the young girl, her worry, concern and innocence piercing the shroud of indifference that blanketed him. "Myella," he croaked through a scratchy throat, "I…" He inhaled deeply. "I'm okay."

Myella swallowed hard and nodded. A small and tentative a smile flashed across her mouth before she turned and left the tent.

Halling sighed and brought the bucket and stack of clean cloths over to the bed. He shook his head in dark amusement at the full pail and the large pile of rags in his hands. "The child brought half the stream and enough cloths to bandage a dozen hands."

"Yes." Kelin's voice held a hint of amusement.

John felt Kelin's gaze and looked up at him.

"It would appear the young people admire you greatly, John."

John nodded. He winced as Kelin began cleaning the rapidly drying blood from one of his hands, while Halling tended to the other. "I can…." His voice trailed off as Kelin stared intently, but reassuringly at him.

"Do not concern yourself with this, John. Concentrate on yourself and nothing else."

Another small thought raced through John's head. "Pertus…?"

"He will stay with us tonight," Halling immediately answered. "I am sure Jinto would enjoy the company. I will look after the boy for you."

John nodded absently. "Thanks." He winced again as the two Athosian men tended his battered knuckles.

"This was a long time coming, Major," Halling stated quietly. "It may not appear to you as beneficial, but it is. You will be stronger for this." He smiled slightly at John's hollow expression. "But, that is a discussion best left for another time." Grabbing a clean, dry cloth, he carefully wrapped John's left hand, while Kelin did the same with the right.

"Lie down, John," Kelin gently instructed.

John found himself too numb, too tired to argue. He slowly lay back, his head sinking into the soft pelts that acted as a pillow. He faintly felt someone settle thick furs over him, but fatigue was rapidly overcoming him. Through his numbness, he suddenly felt strangely relaxed. Despite his nausea, which had begun to lessen, he keenly felt the absence of lingering tension and barely controlled anger. For the first time in a long time, he felt relaxed, and as if the blanket of deadened emotions had begun to lift. A faint glimmer of satisfaction and of peace spread through him, an instant before the bliss of sleep overtook him.

---------------------

A distant, quiet buzzing gradually pulled John from deep slumber. He grimaced, rolling his head to one side, refusing to open his eyes. His head pounded and, as the grogginess in his mind started to clear, he had a pretty fair idea squinting into the light wouldn't help matters at all. He slowly turned over, pulling the furs up close to his face, blocking some of the daylight. The buzzing in the background gradually turned to distinct voices as sleep fled him, despite his best efforts to hang onto it. His attention was piqued as he heard Kelin's voice, just outside his tent.

"…is probably still sleeping…"

John shifted slightly. He wished he were, if only to not have to face the headache and nausea. _Then there were the memories…_ He groaned quietly, the numbness of his breakdown replaced by fresh pain within him.

"I will sit with him, then. Someone needs to be there when he awakens, and you need to rest, Kelin."

John's eyes snapped open, He groaned again as the morning light filtering through his tent assaulted him. He squeezed his eyes shut again. The female voice sounded familiar, but his groggy mind couldn't place it. He heard the tent flap rustle, and listened to the distinct sound of footsteps inside his tent, but he didn't move. Still turned away from the doorway, he couldn't face whoever was there. Yet sleep escaped him completely and his grogginess cleared… only to be replaced with racing thoughts, and surging emotions. He held still, clinging to the illusion that he was asleep, but inside his quaking feelings were far from tranquil. Memories of the day before dashed through his mind.

He'd lost it.

Utterly and completely, he had lost control of himself. He'd been powerless to stop the rush of emotions that had overcome him. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before, and the dominant feeling he had was confusion. But, somewhere inside him, he felt a glimmer of relief… like something had lifted a huge weight from his shoulders and purged his spirit.

His attention was grabbed by a quiet humming that came from behind him. Unfamiliar to him, the tune was nonetheless calming, relaxing. His racing mind slowed as it latched onto the soothing sound. Kelin had been there… seen everything. Hell, he'd instigated his breakdown. Kelin had never left him. Through it all, he distinctly remembered Kelin's face… and the accepting expression that had dominated it.

John's insecurity called to him. He'd broken down… exposed himself to anyone who been around to see. Exposed the pain, the hurt, everything that had plagued him… that he'd tried so hard to contain behind a strong front. Part of him felt disgusted at himself for losing control, but he turned from it. No one had judged him… or deemed him any less strong for what had happened. The memory of Kelin's accepting expression only reinforced that feeling within John.

Holding tight to that sense of acceptance, John slowly turned over and identified the source of the quiet, calming hum.

Seated patiently at the table in the center of his tent, Charin adeptly wove coils of thin, brown, rope, as her voice followed a quiet tune. Relaxed, she seemed to radiate a sense of contentment, and John felt it flow over him. He smiled slightly… respectfully, and quietly cleared his throat.

Charin's braiding hands never slowed. She looked up at him, her small smile warm. "Good morning, John."

He drew strength from her calming presence and found a slight smile. "Morning." His voice was hoarse, and he again cleared his throat.

Charin laid her braiding on the table and grabbed a stout pitcher, wrapped firmly in furs. She tipped it over a mug and poured a steaming cup of tea. Standing slowly, she brought the mug to John. She sat on the edge of his bed. "Take some tea. It will calm your headache and help you feel better."

His expression turned slightly questioning. "How could you tell?" He blinked at her confused look. "My head."

She smiled slightly. "I have seen this before, John."

He pushed himself up on one elbow and groaned as the pain in his head redoubled. He felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Slowly, John."

He pulled in a deep breath and swallowed against his nausea. He reached up with his free hand and, despite the clumsiness from the bandages, took the mug from her grasp. "Thanks." He sipped the hot brew slowly, almost instantly feeling its calming effect as he swallowed. Expecting the robust tea Teyla had introduced him to, he was surprised at the mild flavor that met his palate. He looked up at her. "What is this?"

Charin smiled patiently. "It is a calming tea. It will help relieve the tension that brings you pain."

He nodded as he took another sip. "You'd think I'd feel better than this…" he groused quietly. He looked up again as Charin chuckled softly.

She looked at him her expression sobering, but holding a strong element of reassurance. "You have been cleansed, John. But, like any other wound, the wound of your spirit must have time to heal." She patted his hand lightly, mindful of his bandaged knuckles. "And it will pain you, at first, until it does." She gestured at the mug. "Drink the tea, John."

He again sipped the hot tea, encouraged by her words, and the smooth, sweet flavor that flowed from the cup. He finished quickly and handed her the mug. "Thanks." Pushing himself up further, John was surprised to feel Charin's restraining hand.

"Rest, John." Her voice was almost motherly.

He gently resisted. "No, I really should get up." He paused as a warming sensation started deep inside him. His body slowly relaxed and he suddenly felt tired. "What…?"

Charin squeezed his forearm. "The tea will help you sleep, John, and that is what you need right now, more than anything."

He slowly lay down on the soft pillow. He pulled in a deep breath as his headache ebbed. "Works… fast."

Charin's smile lingered as she nodded. "Kelin believed you would not stay in bed and sleep as you should. I agreed. The tea has closed the matter. Now, sleep, John."

He felt his eyelids grow heavy and slide shut as Charin once again hummed quietly, the nameless, soothing tune. He only heard a few notes before sleep took him.


	8. Book III Chapter III

Consciousness called to him.

John pushed himself up through the layers of sleep and slowly opened his eyes. Dim light from a firepot cast an orange glow on his tent, but beyond, it was dark. He inhaled deeply and slowly sat up. The pain in his head was gone, and his stomach had settled. He felt enormously better than the last time he'd woke….

He looked over his shoulder, smiling slightly at the sight of Charin, patiently braiding by the light of a nearby fire pot. He inhaled, his stomach growling at the rich scent of food that met him. "Charin?" He ventured quietly.

She laid down her braids and smiled at him. "John. Do you feel better?"

He smiled. "A lot." He quirked an eyebrow. "Did you really have to drug me though? A simple 'go to sleep, John' would've worked." He wilted slightly under the distinct motherly look Charin gave him. "Okay, maybe not."

She smiled and nodded. She stood, wincing as she straightened.

His smile faded. "You okay?"

Charin's wince disappeared and was replaced by a tolerant smile. "I am old, John. My body does not work as it did when I was your age."

John chuckled. He slowly stood, stretching against his sore muscles. He flexed his fingers, his gaze fixed on the bandages. His hands felt stiff and sore, but not seriously injured. He looked up, watching as Charin removed the lid from a pot hanging low over one of the firepots. She slowly ladled what looked like a thick stew into a bowl and brought it to the table.

"You must be hungry," she smiled. "Sit, and eat."

His stomach rumbled again. He smiled and sat down at the table, opposite her. She handed him a spoon and set a cup of water next to him.

He gratefully took a bite of stew. He swallowed and smiled at her. "This is really good."

She nodded in acknowledgement. "I have had a lot of practice." She picked up her braids and started weaving the strands again, while John made quick work of the stew.

He took a sip of water and smiled at her. "Charin, you don't have to stay here. I can take care of myself."

She paused in her braiding, and looked up at him. She smiled slightly. "I wish to help you, John. Would you deny me that?"

He sighed and smiled warmly at her. "No. I guess I wouldn't." He stared down at the knotted bandages crossing his knuckles. "Charin? Can you help me get these off?"

She laid aside her braiding and extended her hands.

He scooted across the bench some and extended his left hand to her. He smiled as she gently took his hand into her warm grasp and set to work on the knots.

"I thought you did not need my help anymore," she commented quietly, never looking up at him.

John laughed. "Touché." He shook his head at her questioning look. "Never mind. You're right."

She deftly undid the knot and carefully peeled off the bandage. "They are not serious," she proclaimed quietly.

He lifted his hand from her grasp and looked at his knuckles. Red and slightly swollen, the wounds nonetheless were scabbed over and seemed superficial. He flexed his knuckles carefully, noting the stiffness, but his hand seemed none the worse for wear. Memories briefly flashed back to him. "I sure did a number on them…" he muttered. He looked up as Charin gently took his other hand.

"They are not the most serious wounds you carry, John." She set to work on the knot covering his right knuckles. "But I believe those wounds, much like these, are healing."

He smiled slightly, but said nothing. He drew strength from her quiet confidence and gentle touch as she carefully removed the bandage.

John's right one seemed no worse than the left. He looked up as the tent flap opened and Kelin stuck his head inside.

"We heard voices."

John smiled and waved at him. "Kelin, come in."

Kelin lifted the tent flap higher, and suddenly Pertus appeared. He looked at John hesitantly.

John smiled warmly. "Pertus."

Pertus crossed the tent to John, who swung his legs over the bench and faced the boy.

Without a word Pertus quickly hugged John tightly. "I was worried for you," he whispered.

John sighed and wrapped his arms around the boy. "I'm fine, Pertus." He gently pushed the boy back and smiled at him. "Did you have fun with Jinto?"

Pertus nodded slightly. "Yes, and I even stayed with Kelin and Sorbus too." Pertus stifled a yawn. "We went hunting today."

"Yeah?" John asked. "Did you catch anything?"

Pertus grimaced. "No, but Kelin told me I am only a beginner, and it is okay."

John glanced up and smiled at Kelin, who returned the expression. John once again looked at Pertus. "He's right." John squeezed the boy's shoulder. "But, I think you need some sleep."

"I will leave you now," Charin declared quietly, as she stood. She smiled at John. "I will leave the stew here. Just bring the pot to me when you are finished with it."

John nodded, his smile turning deeply grateful. "I will. Thank you, Charin." He reached out towards her, waiting.

Charin grabbed his hand gently.

John brought his other hand up and over hers. He squeezed with both. "Very much." He felt her grip tighten in his.

"You are welcome, John." She let go and turned away.

John returned his attention to Pertus. "Time for bed." He smiled as the tired boy walked to his pallet. John looked up, meeting the searching gaze of Kelin with a confident one of his own.

Slowly, Kelin smiled. "I will see you in the morning, John. Try to sleep again. It will not hurt you."

John nodded. "Not sure I can, but I'll try. Good night, Kelin." He extended his hand, palm up to Kelin.

Kelin continued smiling as he grabbed John's forearm. He turned his arm, and looked at John's knuckles. "They seem better." He nodded to himself and tightened his grip. "Good night, my friend." He broke the grasp and walked away.

"Kelin?" John's voice stopped him in the doorway.

"Yes, John?"

John looked away for a moment, pursed his lips and took a deep breath before looking back to Kelin. "Thank you." His voice was sincere.

Kelin nodded slightly in understanding. "You are welcome."

----------------------------------

The cool predawn air caressed John's body as he stepped from his tent. Quickly, he swung the long, fur-lined coat over his shoulders and pushed his arms into the sleeves. The medium weight, Athosian-made coat was the perfect thickness for the pre-dawn chill. A faint pink glow in the east revealed the imminent sunrise, and he felt invigorated by the fresh air. Pertus still slept, so he took the opportunity to take a short walk.

His relaxed stride carried him away from the tent. He easily found his way through the settlement, his path lit by the faint predawn glow.

"_They are not the most serious wounds you carry, John. But I believe those wounds, much like these, are healing."_

He smiled to himself as he looked up at the faint stars, their light fading to the growing dawn. In the few weeks that had passed, he'd felt the acute pain of his breakdown begin to ebb. His torturous surrender to his torment had been the most difficult experience he had ever gone through, but he felt strangely strengthened by it. He'd survived, and, while he wasn't a hundred percent normal, he was well on his way to getting there. If he could get through that, he truly felt he could cope with anything.

He pulled in a deep, cleansing breath. Once he made heads and tails of it, that realization was bolstering his confidence in ways he'd never imagined. He was starting to again find the strength of his character, and with it balance to his life. He smiled. He was beginning to see, again, who John Sheppard was… and, inevitably, he had started to feel a pull from Atlantis.

He sighed, wondering how Elizabeth was… or Rodney… or Teyla. Did they think of him? Miss him? He smiled slightly and nodded to himself. They were his friends, and he knew, deep down, he wasn't far from their thoughts. He'd hurt most of them, in one way or another. As he looked back, he wondered, honestly, how he hadn't seen it. Hadn't known… hadn't been able to accept what was right in front of him… what they all were trying to tell him.

Slowly, he smiled. He knew now and, in the end, that was the important part. He had some apologizing to do, but deep down, he knew every one of them would accept it. Hell, he could even hear Elizabeth telling him it wasn't necessary, but he felt it was… and in the end, he knew she'd accept any apology for that very reason.

Quiet voices interrupted his train of thought. His gaze narrowed, as he was able to make out Kelin's voice.

"…is gone. None of the boys has seen her since last night. We will need to search for her."

Another voice. "She is so young."

"Yes," Kelin agreed, "I fear for her safety. We must find her."

John felt his apprehension rise at the concern he heard in Kelin's voice. Taking a moment to identify where the voices were coming from, he walked around a nearby tent just in time to see an Athosian man jog off, leaving Kelin standing alone. "Kelin?" John questioned.

Kelin's brows arched in slight surprise as he walked over to him. "I did not expect to see you this early, my friend."

John nodded absently. "What's going on? Who's missing?" he asked quietly.

Kelin shook his head. "Myella. There was an… altercation between her and Rentel last night over snares. Myella again did not catch anything. No one has seen her since last night." Kelin's gaze narrowed. "She feels the need to prove herself, although it is not necessary." Concern blanketed Kelin's expression. "She is young, and the young often do foolish and rash things, but beyond the confines of the settlement it is an untamed country, John. I fear for her safety."

John nodded in agreement. He felt his professionalism kick in as everything else was put aside. "Let me help look for her. Also, have someone radio Atlantis. Tell Elizabeth what's going on and get some help." A moment of embarrassment passed over John as Kelin arched a surprised eyebrow at his authoritative tone. He sighed. "Look, I'm not telling you what to do, but my people can help… and so can I."

Kelin smiled and nodded. He looked past John and waved to Halling, who trotted over. "Has anyone contacted Dr. Weir on Atlantis? They may be able to help."

Halling glanced for a moment at John before nodding. "Yes, we will do that." He smiled at John. "Thank you, Major." Halling jogged away from them.

John returned his gaze to Kelin. "How are we doing this?" He fell into step next to Kelin as they both made their way to the central area of the settlement.

"Many of us are dividing into search groups, which will depart at first light. I am taking Rentel and Sorbus with me, as the boys may have some ideas where she has gone." Kelin glanced at John. "I would also like to have Pertus with me, if that is all right with you."

John's gaze narrowed. "Pertus? If I'm on a team, maybe he should be with me?"

Kelin smiled slightly, stopped and faced John. "True, but you will not be on the mainland forever, John. Pertus will need a home here."

Realization dawned on John, as his jaw dropped slightly. "You?"

Kelin's smile turned reflective. "I have fostered children before, and even now I care for Sorbus. Pertus is no different." He inhaled deeply. "But that is a discussion for another time."

John smiled. "Right. And Pertus should go with you."

"Excellent. Take Jinto and Wex. They also are close to Myella and may know where she has gone."

John nodded. "What about Halling?"

"Halling is staying here to coordinate the searchers… and to be with Myella's parents. They are… not taking this well." Kelin shook his head. "Laonid was ready to go off on his own to search for his daughter, despite the need to coordinate this effort correctly, and Nulea, well she…" Kelin sighed. "There are times, John, when I wonder how Myella could be their daughter."

John nodded. "I get it." He returned his attention forward as they arrived in the central area, and waved Jinto over to him.

"Major Sheppard?" Jinto questioned.

John smiled briefly. "Go to my tent. Wake Pertus and bring him back here. Quickly."

Jinto nodded and dashed off.

Several packs had been laid out, well laden with supplies for the search parties. John nodded in recognition to Halling as he approached him.

"I have spoken with Dr. Weir. She is sending a Jumper with Teyla and some of your people to help."

John smiled. "Thought she would."

----------------------

He had just finished packing his supplies when a familiar whine from the sky grabbed his attention. He looked up, smiling, and watched as a Jumper slowly landed a short distance away, its graceful form silhouetted against the first light of the rising sun.

Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he trotted across the field towards the Jumper, his duster-length jacket dragging slightly through the long grass. As he approached the Jumper, the rear hatch opened, and Teyla, Markham, Stackhouse and Rodney slowly exited.

"Major!" Stackhouse waved as Sheppard trotted across the field to them. "It's good to see you, sir."

John smiled and nodded at Stackhouse, before giving a similar gesture to Markham. His gaze caught on Teyla, and, for a moment, silence hung between them. Her gaze was intuitive, and John stared evenly back at her. For the first time in a long while, he felt comfortable with her uncanny intuition, and the look he gave her must've portrayed that.

Teyla slowly smiled and nodded slightly. "You seem well, Major."

He smiled back. "I'm getting there," he said quietly.

"You look like you're straight out of a Jean Auel book. Very 'Clan of the Cave Bear'-ish…"

John shook his head and slowly turned his attention to Rodney. He held his slight smile. "Nice to see you too, Rodney. Surprised to see you **here** though."

Predictably, Rodney sighed in irritation. "Yes, well, despite all reports, I'm not as cold hearted as you think…" His voice trailed off as three cynical looks and Teyla's unbelieving one greeted his statement. "Fine," Rodney snapped. "I wouldn't be here if you didn't need me to keep the power levels on the Jumper under control."

John thought for a second, before realization dawned on him. "You're going to use the same trick you used to find Kelin, Rentel and Sorbus before?"

"Well, we wouldn't be very useful if we didn't!" Rodney retorted.

John's brows furrowed. "There are going to be searchers all over the woods…."

"In groups!" Rodney interrupted, "she'll be alone. That's how."

Unfazed, John just shook his head. "Come on, let's get this coordinated with Halling and get going." He turned towards the settlement, only to be stopped by Stackhouse's hand. He turned. "Sergeant?"

Stackhouse grinned and held out his hand. "Thought you might want one of these, Major."

John looked down, a small smile turning up his mouth at the radio headset that rested in the sergeant's hand. He quickly fit the headset over his ear, taking strange comfort in the all-too-familiar feeling. "Right. Let's go." He turned and walked briskly back towards the settlement, Teyla, Markham, Stackhouse and Rodney right behind.

After quick deliberation, the search patterns for both the ground teams and the Jumper were established, and John found himself watching as the Atlantis team made their way back to the Jumper, all except Teyla, who was leading a search team of her own. "Sergeant!" he called, stopping Stackhouse in his tracks.

"Sir?"

John tapped his headset. "Stay in contact, at least every hour."

Stackhouse nodded curtly. "Yes sir."

John turned back as Halling approached him, Jinto and Wex just behind. John nodded briefly at Halling before looking down to the boys. "Ready?"

"Yes," Jinto responded.

John's gaze narrowed. Jinto's expression was hesitant. "What's wrong, Jinto?" John glanced at Halling as he looked down at his son.

"Jinto?" Halling's deep voice was questioning.

Jinto shuffled his feet and glanced at Wex, who looked equally uncomfortable. Jinto looked back at John. "We…" he bit his lip, "we don't know where Myella is, Major Sheppard."

John sighed and smiled slightly. "I know that, Jinto. It's okay. No one expects any of you to know exactly where she is, but you have a better idea of where she could be than we do." He squeezed the boy's shoulder. "Just do your best."

"Major Sheppard is right," Halling agreed. He knelt and placed both hands on his son's shoulders. "Do your best, and do what Major Sheppard tells you, my son." Halling glanced at Wex. "And you."

"Yes, Father." Jinto nodded, some of the hesitation gone from his voice.

Halling stood again, and grasped John's forearm. "Go safely, Major, and good fortune."

John smiled. "Thanks." Shifting the pack on his back, John headed out of the settlement in the direction of his first search area, Jinto and Wex right behind.

----------------------

John stepped through the dense underbrush and dodged a stout branch before looking back at the boys. "Where are we going?"

Jinto pointed at the barely visible path they were following. "That way. There is a cave at the base of the hills we all go to sometimes. Myella knows of it."

John nodded and looked down at the alleged path. To call it anything but a slight depression in the thick underbrush was an overstatement, yet he had few problems following it. He smiled. Apparently, working with the Athosian adolescents had rubbed off on him too. Abruptly, he stopped, waving behind him to halt the boys. He knelt and pushed back a large fern branch. He smiled at the faint, but fresh track. "Jinto," John back as Jinto leaned over his shoulder. "What do you make of that?"

"Let me see too!" Wex pushed branches out of the way and looked over John's other shoulder. "Oh, I know!"

"So do I," Jinto glared briefly at Wex before looking back at John. "It's a fresh track. The size is right for Myella."

John smiled. "Right. It's likely her, but never assume anything, Jinto."

"You sound like Kelin," Wex observed.

John chuckled. "I guess I do. I'll take that as a compliment by the way." He stood and continued following the path through the woods.

Before long, the underbrush thinned, and they found themselves face to face with the base of the foothills. John looked around. "Where is this cave?"

Jinto pointed to a ragged outcropping of rocks. "Over there. It is hard to see, but there is a small entrance."

John crossed the narrow clearing to the rocks, arching a brow as he finally spotted the entrance. He paused. "Myella?" he called. He listened, shaking his head at the silence that greeted him.

"She is not here," Jinto said quietly.

"Or she's not answering us," John observed. He walked up to the cave entrance and looked around.

"She is not here," Jinto repeated.

John glanced at the boy, his gaze narrowing. "How do you know?"

Jinto pointed at gauzy moss that hung low over the entrance. "She would not be able to enter without disturbing that."

"And there are no tracks!" Wex pointed at the soft clay surrounding the entrance to the cave.

John smiled. The missing tracks he'd spotted, but the moss was a good catch by Jinto. "Right." John stepped away from the cave and tapped his radio headset. "Jumper Three do you copy?" He shook his head at the static. "Must be out of range," he muttered.

He looked back at the boys who stood nearby. "Any other ideas?"

Jinto and Wex exchanged looks as they both thought.

"What about…?"

"Wex!" Jinto hissed.

John's gaze narrowed as it passed from one boy to another. His suspicion intensified as both of them refused to make eye contact with him. "Jinto, Wex? What aren't you telling me?" He pursed his lips at their silence. "If you know where Myella is, you need to tell me."

"We do not know," Jinto said quietly, still not meeting John's gaze. "I promise that."

John nodded slowly. "Okay. What **do** you know?" He waited patiently as the two boys again exchanged hesitant looks before nodding at each other.

Jinto slowly looked up at John. "There is a place, not far from here, where the river comes out of the hills. It is a waterfall and cove. We all like to go there sometimes."

John nodded. "Why the big secret?"

Jinto bit his lip but spoke anyway. "Because it is beyond the boundaries of where we are allowed to go without an adult with us."

John nodded slowly. "Sounds like a likely spot." He arched an eyebrow at the boys. "Is there anything else you're not telling me?"

Jinto's eyes widened. "No, Major Sheppard! I do not know if Myella is there! We were not trying to keep anything from you, I promise!"

John sighed. "It's okay, I believe you." He held the stern expression for a moment, before letting it soften some. "You both did the right thing by telling me. Your parents may have words with both of you over this, but you still did the right thing, okay?"

The boys nodded.

"Okay then." He gestured in the direction of the river. "Let's go."

------------------------

He watched his step as they followed the uneven base of the foothills. At first, only the sound of the wind journeyed with them, but after a while, a faint roaring could be heard. As they continued on, the roaring got louder, until at last they saw the river. John stopped as he took in the sight. Cascading down from a steep cliffside, a wide waterfall emptied into a large cove, which narrowed into a river and flowed off into the trees. Eventually, that water would pass the Athosian settlement, before emptying into the ocean. "Nice," John muttered. He scanned the area, looking for signs of the Athosian girl. "Myella?" he called.

"She may be up there," Jinto pointed to the top of the cliff. "There is a plateau there. From it, you can see for miles. She always liked climbing up there."

John arched an eyebrow at the steep cliff. "You'd have to be a mountain goat to climb that," he muttered. He glanced at the boys' confused expressions. "Never mind. How did you get up there?"

Jinto pointed not far behind them to where the hillside was more gradual. "We climb up there then walk back."

John nodded. "Okay." He briskly walked towards the gentle slope, nodding to himself as he spotted a narrow, switchback path zigzagging across the hill. Not hesitating, he started up the path, following its winding course as it made its way up the hillside. Slightly winded, he was glad when the steep incline leveled out and the path made its way back towards the river.

Before long, the underbrush thinned, and he found himself walking on hard rock, as the hill morphed into a cliff. To one side, behind him, was a steep incline as the hills continued their path to the mountains, but the other was a sharp drop off, providing an impressive view. He looked around. Were it not for the trees and the forest below them, he was sure he'd be able to see the Athosian settlement from here. Stopping, he again tapped the call button on his headset, convinced the elevation and decreased natural barriers would give him considerably better radio range. "Jumper Three do you copy?"

He smiled as Stackhouse's voice answered him. "This is Jumper Three, go ahead, Major."

"Sergeant, radio back to Halling and let him know the cave was a bust. We're in the hills close by to the river checking something else out. Will advise when we know something."

"Copy that, Major, Jumper Three clear."

"Sheppard out."

John continued on his way. Before long, he abruptly stopped and knelt. He smiled slightly at the faint track in the soft dirt. "She's here… or at least she was." He glanced back at the boys' hesitant looks. "Yeah, I know, assuming it's her, but who else would be up here?"

He stood and continued on, encouraged as he spotted another track. Before long, the river came into view. He glanced upstream to where the river swiftly flowed down the hill before it leveled out for a short distance as it crossed the plateau on its way to the waterfall. Jagged rocks protruded from its white-capped surface, and the rush of water crashing into them created a loud roar. Once again, the vegetation thickened in response to the ready supply of water. He stepped around some bushes and onto the riverbank. He stopped abruptly and smiled at the small figure standing on a large rock halfway across the river. Looking around, he spotted several rocks, each within jumping distance of each other, and realized the girl must've jumped from one to another to get to where she was. He shook his head at the danger, but part of him admired her courageous spirit.

He took a moment to glance down at Jinto and Wex and smile, before once again looking out at the girl. The rock she stood upon was narrow and jagged and he hesitated at the thought of startling her. He never had a chance to consider his options, as Wex beat him to the punch.

"Myella!" Wex called loudly.

"Wait…"John's voice trailed off as Wex's call had the exact effect on the Athosian girl that he feared.

Startled, Myella turned quickly, her sudden movement throwing off her balance. Her feet scrambling madly, she screamed an instant before she fell backwards into the river.

"Myella!" John shouted. He ran the rest of the distance to the river and stopped on the bank, his gaze searching. His gaze narrowed as he spotted her small form, clinging to a nearby rock. "Hang on, Myella!" He looked around, quickly noting the swift progress of the river. His eyes traced the path of rocks Myella had originally jumped to get to the center of the river. He grimaced in frustration. Her fall had carried her far enough downstream there was no way for him to jump rocks and get to her. His gaze fixed on the not-too-distant edge of the waterfall. Always a strong swimmer, he still doubted he could reach the girl before the current carried him further downstream than she was, even if he ran a ways up river and started there. And if he missed…

He shook his head. There had to be a better way.

"I am sorry!" Wex's voice was panicked.

John glanced at both boys. "It's okay, we'll get her." His gaze once again fixed on the girl. Even from this distance, he could see the fear in her expression. "Hang on, Myella!" he called, "it's gonna be okay!" He reached up and tapped his headset. "Jumper Three, this is Sheppard, come in."

"Jumper Three," Stackhouse responded.

"Sergeant, we've found Myella. She's fallen into the river and I can't get to her. I need Markham to fly the Jumper here and lower me down to her. We're at the top of the waterfall. Just fly to the river and follow it to the foothills. You can't miss us. And have some rope ready."

"Copy that, Major, we're on our way. ETA is 10 minutes."

John shook his head. "Make it less than that, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir. Jumper Three out."

John walked to the edge of the water. He winced as his foot sunk into the mud and the cold river water seeped through his boot. A sense of urgency crept into him. Straight from the mountains, the near freezing water was snowmelt. Even uninjured, and John wasn't too sure about that, Myella wouldn't be able to hang on long before the cold sapped her strength. "Myella?" he called. "Help's coming! Hold on, okay?" His gaze narrowed at her lack of response. He could barely make her out over the rushing water. "Myella? Come on, sweetie, answer me." John pursed his lips. "Myella!" he shouted louder.

"M…Major?"

Faint, John could just make out her shaking voice over the rush of the water. "That's it, I'm here. You're gonna be okay! Help's coming, you just have to hang onto that rock, okay? Don't let go!"

"Major Sheppard?" Jinto's voice was unsure and held a note of panic.

John glanced down at both boys. "We'll get her, its going to be okay."

Before too long, he looked up as a familiar whine caught his attention. He smiled slightly as the Jumper suddenly appeared from below the edge of the waterfall. He tapped his radio. "That was quick. Good flying Sergeant."

"Thanks sir," Markham responded.

"Never mind that he nearly killed us getting here." Rodney's annoyed voice broke in.

John pursed his lips, the urgency of the situation lowering his tolerance. "Pipe down, McKay, you're in one piece. Markham?"

"I see the girl," the pilot answered, "Stackhouse is ready at the back hatch to lower some rope to you."

"Copy that. Put me on Vox." John glanced at Wex and Jinto. "You two get back by the tree line and out of the way, okay?"

Both boys nodded and ran back to the trees a safe distance away.

John returned his attention to the Jumper as it slowly descended right above him. He shrugged out of his pack, and the fur lined Athosian overcoat he wore, shedding the possible hindrance of loose clothing, especially if the thick coat got wet, and opting to do this only in his close fitting t-shirt and flexible pants. He momentarily considered leaving his boots behind, but dismissed the idea. He'd need them to protect his feet if he had to push off of or land on one of the rocks.

Markham stopped their descent about 25 feet above him, and the back hatch abruptly opened.

"Heads up!" Stackhouse called. An instant later, two coils of rope sailed down from the open hatch and hit the ground close to John.

"Stand by, Sergeant," John said as he trotted to the rope. He winced as something light brushed against his head, before hitting the ground behind him. "What the…?" he looked down, arching his eyebrow at the pair of gloves, knotted together lying on the ground.

"Thought you could use those, sir."

John looked up, nodding as Stackhouse waved down at him. "Good thinking." He reached down, snagging the gloves. Heavy but flexible, the grips were coarse leather, and would protect his hands, while still giving him the dexterity he needed. He shoved his hands into the gloves and reached for the rope. Grabbing the ends of both ropes, he wove them together for added strength before he quickly devised a makeshift harness and stepped into it. "Stackhouse? Take up the slack until I tell you to stop."

"Copy that."

John watched as the slack rope was pulled up. As the rope grew taut, he settled back against his harness. "Okay, that's good. Tie me off and let's do this!"

"Hold on," Rodney's voice once again cut in on the radio.

John sighed. "What's the hold up?"

"Oh, I don't know, I thought I'd pad the ropes against the edges of the Jumper frame," Rodney snapped back, "unless you'd like them to fray while you're suspended over a rushing river, barely fifty feet from a waterfall?"

John grimaced, briefly annoyed at Rodney's typical sarcasm. He let it go. "Copy that. We ready?"

"Stand by, sir," Markham answered his question.

He held tightly to the rope and tried to relax into his harness as he felt himself eased off the ground.

"Hold onto your butt… sir," Markham's voice was slightly distracted.

In spite of the urgent situation, John quirked his eyebrows in response to the Sergeant's comment. "Do I have a choice?" Shifting his weight back and forth, he struggled to keep his balance centered over the thin rope that cut into his backside. He felt goosebumps rise on his arms from the wind resistance as Markam carefully piloted the Jumper towards Myella. He dismissed the thoughts of discomfort and returned to business as he drew closer to Myella. "Steady now, Sergeant, we're almost there."

"Yes, sir." Markham's voice was clearly distracted now. "I have you both on the HUD."

"Copy that." John snaked his left arm around the ropes, allowing them to cut into his forearm as he once again took a tight hold. The coarse leather gloves lent traction to his grip as he slowly lifted his legs and leaned back. He was nearly parallel with the water as he reached out towards the girl.

His gaze narrowed at her glassy expression. Her lips were bluish and her teeth were chattering violently. "Myella." Lowering his voice to a calm and reassuring tone, he urged her to take his hand. Ignoring the bite of the rope in his arm, and its pinch in his legs, he focused all his attention on her. "Myella? Come on, honey, take my hand. You can do it."

After an agonizingly long moment, Myella slowly looked up at him. He smiled reassuringly. "You're gonna be okay, just take my hand."

Slowly, she lifted one shaking hand, only to nearly lose her precarious hold on the rock.

Lunging, John grabbed for her but missed. He quickly reached up with his free hand and grabbed the rope as his abrupt actions set him dangerously off balance. For a moment, he fought his uncertain balance as he swung back and forth, before he once again gained control. He quickly looked back at the river, sighing slightly as he spotted Myella.

Somehow, Myella had managed to regain her grip on the rock, but against the rushing water, she needed both hands to do it.

John pulled in a deep breath, his heart pounding. "That was close," he muttered.

"What happened?" Rodney instantly responded.

"She damn near lost her hold trying to reach for my hand." John's mind raced as he considered the situation. Only one option presented itself. "Sergeant, you're going to have to lower me into the water so I can grab her. She's too weak to reach for me."

"Sir?" Markham's voice was hesitant.

"You've got to be joking!" Rodney's voice was disbelieving.

John hardened his tone. "We don't have a choice here."

"Major…" Rodney started again.

John sighed and lowered his voice, hoping Myella couldn't hear. "We don't have much time before we lose her. I'm not going to let that happen." His gaze narrowed as he brought his voice back to a normal tone. "Markham, do it. That's an order."

"Yes, sir," Markham agreed, even though he sounded no more sure of John's idea than Rodney was.

John gritted his teeth as the cold water enveloped his lower body. "Damn," he muttered. As the line of cold water crept up his chest, he braced his feet against the rock and pushed himself closer to Myella. "Sergeant, bring me closer. Easy now, not much." The current pulled insistently on him, trying to counter the Jumper's influence, as he edged closer to the girl. Slowly, John reached out and carefully wrapped his arm around her waist from behind. "Myella?" his voice was quiet and reassuring as he brought his face close to hers, "easy now, I've got you. Just let go and grab a hold of me." He fought the waver in his voice and teeth that wanted to chatter against the near freezing water. "Myella?" he asked again. "Come on, let go. It's okay, I've got you."

"Sir?" Markham's voice questioned.

"Stand by, Sergeant," John replied immediately. He returned his attention to the girl. "Myella," he raised his voice slightly, "listen to me. Let go." He craned his head to see her face. Her eyes were glazed over and her gaze distant. It was as if everything within her had shut down, except her instinctive grip on the rock. John shook his head at her near catatonic state. "Myella?" He raised his voice and shook her gently. "Myella?"

He pursed his lips. His left arm was on fire and his legs shaking as he fought to keep his position against the current. He shook her harder, more insistently. "Myella!"

Abruptly, the girl pulled in a stuttering breath and blinked hard. "M…Major Sh…Sheppard?"

John let himself smile briefly. "Hi there. Now, let go of the rock and grab onto my neck. I won't let go of you, I promise."

Her reflexes sluggish, Myella let go, but fumbled aimlessly when she tried to turn and grab him.

John gritted his teeth, grunting against the added weight dragging on him, but held fast. "Put your arms around my neck!" The burning fire in his left arm cut through the chill in his body, but he tuned it out. "Myella! Grab onto me! Now!"

Somehow the girl managed to turn and wrap her arms snugly around his neck.

John sighed in relief, the strain on his body lessening as she held tightly to him. "Good, wrap your legs around me too, honey," John urged, smiling slightly as he felt her legs latch onto him. He tightened his arm around her and looked up at the underside of the Jumper. "Get us out of here, Sergeant!" His voice wavered from fatigue and cold, but he held fast to the rope. Glancing up, he noticed trickles of blood working their way down his arm, from rope burns, but his grip never wavered. The cool air felt like a summer's day compared to the frigid water, but as soon as the river breeze hit him, his chill redoubled, and when the Jumper eased him onto the riverbank, it took everything he had to just stand up without collapsing. The rope slackened and he carefully laid Myella on the ground before stepping out of the harness. He instinctively cradled his left arm as he stared for a moment at her semi-conscious face before reaching out and grabbing his discarded coat. He knelt and hastily wrapped it around her, and then pressed his fingers into her neck, wincing at the icy cold feel of her skin and the slow pace of her pulse. "Sergeant, she may be hypothermic and I don't know what other injuries she has. We need to get her to Atlantis, ASAP."

"Yes, sir," Markham responded. "I don't have enough room to land, but I think I can get close enough to the ground to pick you up."

"Copy that." John waved at Jinto and Wex. "Come on!"

Both boys ran down the riverbank to John as he watched the Jumper descend. Half over the shore and half over the water, about five feet in the air, the Jumper stabilized.

"That's as close as I can push it, sir." Though professional, Markham's voice sounded slightly nervous.

"That's good enough, Sergeant." John picked up Myella and carried her to the Jumper. Grunting against his protesting body, he lifted the girl to Stackhouse, who was kneeling at the end of the back hatch.

"I got her sir," Stackhouse stood and carried the girl into the Jumper as John lifted Jinto high enough for him to grab Rodney's hand. Rodney lifted, helping the boy scramble onto the ramp. They repeated the process with Wex.

Stackhouse reappeared and extended his hand to John.

John grabbed Stackhouse's arm with one hand and Rodney's with the other. He jumped as they lifted and unceremoniously pulled him into a sitting position on the Jumper ramp.

"Since when did you get so heavy?" Rodney groused as he glared at Sheppard.

Before John could respond, Stackhouse grabbed his arm. The sergeant's gaze narrowed at the blood. "Sir, you okay?"

John nodded and struggled to his feet, his teeth chattering against the cool breeze that flowed over his wet body. "I'm fine." He made a beeline for Myella as Rodney closed the rear hatch. He snagged an emergency blanket from the overhead storage, shook it open and wrapped it around the semi conscious girl. "Markham! Get us to Atlantis!" he barked.

"Yes, sir!"

He reached under the blanket and hastily undid the laces around the neck of Myella's shirt, before pulling it over her head and throwing it on the floor. He wrapped the blanket tighter around her upper body, and draped part of it over her head like a hood. "Myella?" His voice was soft, but insistent. "Myella, open your eyes. Talk to me. Stay awake."

The girl moaned quietly in response.

Rodney stared down at the discarded tunic. "Major?"

Through the blanket, John rubbed Myella's arms, hoping to do anything to help her warm up and respond to him. He pointed at her feet. "Rodney, pull her boots off, then help me with her pants."

"Major, I really don't think…."

"McKay!" John interrupted, "I don't have time to argue modesty with you! The worst thing right now is for her to sit in these wet clothes, and you know it! Now, get her boots off." John glanced at Stackhouse. "Grab another blanket." Pulling her close, John wrapped his arms around her as Rodney pulled her knee high boots off. "Myella? Stay awake. Talk to me."

Myella's eyelids fluttered. "M…Major Sheppard?" she muttered quietly.

John cracked a small smile. "That's it. Talk to me." Reaching under the blanket, John undid the laces to her pants and waved at Rodney. "Pull them off." Sheppard's tone was no nonsense, and Rodney nodded and worked her wet pants down and off her legs. "Myella?" He questioned again.

"M…Major," the girl mumbled, "cold…."

John tightened his arms around her. "I know. It won't be long and we'll be back to Atlantis. You'll be warm there. Just stay awake and talk to me, okay?"

Stackhouse stepped in and threw another blanket over her legs, tucking it in snugly around her.

John looked up, his eyes narrowing as he met Rodney's gaze. "What?"

"You." Rodney pointed at him.

His attention pulled back to himself, John felt the chill that seemed to go right through his entire body, except his left arm, which throbbed.

"You okay?" Rodney's voice was quiet and bordered on concern.

"Nothing a hot cup of coffee wouldn't cure," John shifted Myella into his lap before quickly pulling his wet shirt off. A weight settled on his shoulders and, surprised, he looked up at Stackhouse, before his gaze fixed on the blanket that rested on his shoulders.

"With all due respect, sir, you look as though you could use one too." Stackhouse smiled slightly.

"You'll have to settle for tea," Rodney responded, his normal, arrogant tone returning.

"Just as long as it's hot." John returned his attention to Myella for a moment. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her blanketed body. He looked up at Markham's back. "Sergeant? What's our ETA to Atlantis?"

"Fifteen minutes, sir," Markham responded.

"Less would be better, Sergeant," John urged.

Markham nodded. "Yes, sir. Working on it."

John sighed. "Radio Atlantis. Let them know we're incoming with a medical emergency. Probable hypothermia. Have Beckett standing by."

"Yes, sir," Markham again responded, his attention never diverting from his course.

John returned his attention to the young girl. "Myella?" He shook her gently. "Myella?" he repeated.

"Major," she slurred. Abruptly, her teeth started chattering violently, its effect shaking her whole body as she shivered intensely.

John's tight grip on her never wavered. "Pretty spot you picked," he commented quietly. "You go there often?" Again, he shook her gently, "Myella?"

"Yes," she muttered.

"When was the last time you were there?" John asked, determined to keep her talking.

"No…." Myella's headshake was disjointed.

Concern mounted in him as John wondered how lucid the girl was. He looked down at her. "No, what?"

"Get… trouble…" she croaked out around chattering teeth.

John smiled slightly. "I won't tell, I promise. So, when were you there last?"

"Few days ago."

"Yeah?" John's voice was soothing. "What do you do when you're there?"

"Th…think…." she stuttered.

John arched his brows. "What do you think about?" John waited a moment for her response before he looked down and shook her gently. "Myella? What do you think about?" Concern worked its way into his voice as the girl remained silent. "Myella? Answer me." He gently shook her again. "Myella?"

"Ouch," she suddenly answered him.

John looked up just in time to see Rodney let go of one of her blanket-covered feet.

Rodney met John's gaze and nodded slightly.

John briefly smiled at him before returning his attention to Myella. "So, what do you think about?"

"Tired…."

John's eyes widened slightly in concern. "I know. But, you need to stay awake. Understand? Stay awake."

"Major…" Myella slurred quietly.

"Final approach to Atlantis, sir," Markham abruptly spoke. "We'll be landing in a few minutes."

Relief glimmered in John. "Is Beckett standing by?"

"Yes, sir. Dr. Beckett and a medical team are in the Jumper Bay waiting."

John nodded. "Then get us landed, Sergeant."

"Doing that now, sir," Markham replied.

As soon as the Jumper landed, Rodney jumped up and slapped the rear hatch control. John looked up, as Carson suddenly appeared with a stretcher right behind him. Carson took a moment to look John over, before he peeled back the blanket and felt for Myella's pulse. "Major. Not the way I expected to see ye back in Atlantis." His tone was distracted.

"At least I know how to make an entrance," John quipped before his gaze turned serious. "Doc?"

Carson shifted Myella's torso out of John's grip as another medic grabbed the girl's legs. Together, they lifted her into the waiting stretcher. "Get an IV with warm saline started, and I want a full set of vitals, including her core temperature." Carson tucked a pre-warmed blanket over the girl before turning his attention back to John. "We'll take good care of her." His eyes scanned over a wet, cold John. "Are ye alright, Major? Can ye walk?"

John nodded and pushed back the blankets. "Nothing a hot shower wouldn't fix…." His voice trailed off as Carson spotted his bleeding arm.

"Ach! Fine indeed!" He grabbed John arm and briefly scanned the injuries. Convinced they weren't serious, Carson stood and waved at Lansing.

The medic took one look at John and grabbed another blanket before coming over to him.

Carson took the blanket from her, shook it open and threw it over John.

John inhaled sharply, the warmth from the pre-heated blanket almost painful.

"Carolyn," Carson turned back to the medic, "see to his arm, get a set of vitals, including temperature, and make sure when the Major decides to stand and walk, that he finds his way to the infirmary."

"Doc…" John ventured.

"No arguments!" Carson pointed briefly at John. The discussion closed, Carson returned his attention to the stretcher and escorted it from the Jumper.

John looked up at the medic and flashed her a charming smile. "I really am okay."

Lansing's gaze narrowed. "Hmm." She knelt, pulled out a BP cuff and stethoscope, and started on Beckett's orders. "We'll let Dr. Beckett be the judge of that."

"Lansing… it's Carolyn, right?" John started again, only to be shushed by the medic as she inflated the BP cuff.

After a moment, she sat back and removed the stethoscope from her ears. She grabbed his wrist, palpating a pulse.

John smiled again. "Carolyn. Do you mind if I call you Carolyn?"

She briefly looked up from her watch, her expression wary. "That's fine."

He smiled wider. "Carolyn. Look I'm okay. Just bandage my arm, and I'll go take a hot shower before coming to the infirmary to see Myella, alright?" He waved at the medical bag. "This really isn't necessary…."

"Really?" Lansing arched an eyebrow at him. "And that's your _expert_ opinion?"

John's smile faded at her no nonsense tone. He turned up the charm and arched an eyebrow at her. "Well…."

"Major," Lansing interrupted him, "don't bother. You're still going to the infirmary. I don't care how charming you try to be."

John grimaced. "How…?"

Lansing laughed. "How? Five years as a paramedic with the city of Chicago. That's how. It never worked for firemen, and its sure not going to work for you." She smiled sweetly. "Although, you're good at the charm angle, Major… very good."

John sighed.

------------------------------

Her stride quick, Elizabeth made her way through the busy corridors towards the infirmary. Her stomach was crowded with butterflies, the fast pace she set doing nothing to help quell them. In the two months since she'd sent John to the Mainland, her thoughts had routinely turned to him. Now, confronted with the moment of truth… to know if he was better or not, she was almost scared to face him. What if he wasn't? What if there was no improvement? What would he do?

What would she do?

At the door to the infirmary she stopped. Pulling in a deep breath, she stepped forward, the door automatically opening in response. She slowly walked through, and paused again, taking in her surroundings.

To one side, Carson and two medics were working over a small girl lying motionless on a gurney. Elizabeth studied Carson's gaze for a moment. While intense, his expression wasn't one of grave concern and she deduced that, while injured, the girl probably wasn't in immediate danger anymore.

Slowly, she turned until she met the gaze of John Sheppard. One of Carson's medics was cleaning a nasty looking wound on his arm, but his eyes only focused on Elizabeth. She froze and stared back at him for a moment, trying to read what was on his mind. John's expression was carefully neutral, but beyond that…

Elizabeth pushed down the hope that welled within her. He seemed slightly concerned, no doubt for the girl Carson was tending, but something else was different. Elizabeth kept the surprise from her face as realization swept over her. For the past couple months, whenever she was near him, John had radiated a boiling tension that she could almost feel. Without realizing it, she'd started to grow accustomed to it. Until this moment, feeling the absence of it, seeing no trace of it in his expression, she hadn't realized how used to it she had become.

Slowly, one side of John's mouth turned up in a small, half smile.

Elizabeth pulled in a deep breath and blinked, snapping the moment of hesitation within her. She crossed the infirmary until she stood before him. "Major," she smiled a little and nodded, "are you okay?"

He arched a brow at her and motioned with his head at Lansing. "Ask my boss," he commented wryly.

Elizabeth's smile turned amused, and she looked expectantly at Lansing.

Lansing glanced up at Elizabeth for a moment before returning her attention to John's wound. "I think he's fine, now that we got him out of those wet clothes and into some dry ones." She nodded her head at the wounds she was tending. "These don't seem serious, but Dr. Beckett will have the final word when he has a chance."

John lifted his other hand and, for the first time, Elizabeth noticed the steaming mug of Athosian tea he'd been nursing.

"This helps, but I'd kill for a cup of hot coffee."

He quirked his eyebrows at Elizabeth, and she couldn't help but smile back. Relief washed through her and she dared to hope that what she saw was indeed the John Sheppard she grown to know in the months before his capture by the Wraith. Her smile faded as hesitation whispered to her. Her gaze turned slightly wary, and in an instant, she knew he noticed it.

He sighed quietly and looked at Lansing. "Carolyn, can you give Dr. Weir and me a couple of minutes? We… ah, have something to discuss."

Elizabeth nodded slightly at Lansing, who looked back to John.

"Sure." She pointed at his chest. "As long as you stay put."

"I'll make sure he does," Elizabeth reassured the medic.

Lansing nodded, the word of the expedition leader seeming to be good enough, and walked away.

John sighed again and looked back at Elizabeth. "I suppose this is the point where you ask how I am, and I tell you I'm fine." He arched a brow at her.

Holding her expression carefully neutral, she nodded slightly. "I suppose so." Her gaze narrowed. "How are you, John? Really?" She watched him as he looked away for a moment while he considered her words. Some confirmation of how he really was returned to Elizabeth. Instead of leaping to the standard answer of 'I'm fine', he actually seemed to be considering her words. That alone reassured her. Finally, he looked at her, his expression somber.

"I'm not fine," he replied quietly, "but I'm a lot better."

Relief washed through her. She drew in a deep breath and smiled. "That's the best answer you could've given me."

He chuckled. "Yeah?" His gaze narrowed slightly. "You believe me?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes." She arched a humored eyebrow at him.

He stared intently at her for a moment before his expression took on a playful look. "Hell, had I known that, I would've said it a long time ago," he chuckled.

"I wouldn't have believed you," she responded quietly.

"But now you do?" His voice held a note of hesitation.

She made eye contact with him and stared for a quiet moment. "Yes, I do."

Slowly, he smiled. He inhaled quickly and looked away. "Elizabeth I…" his hesitant voice trailed off.

She reached out, squeezing his uninjured forearm slightly. "John?"

He looked down at her hand for a moment, before looking up at her. He swallowed hard. "I'm ready to come back to Atlantis…. I'm ready to come home," he said quietly.

She met his hesitant, almost pleading, expression with a strong and warm one of her own. She smiled and nodded. "I'm ready to have you back, Major."

He let out a pent up breath and smiled.

She let go of his arm and stepped back. "What about Pertus?"

He nodded. "Item one on my list of things to take care of. I need to go back to the mainland and wrap a few things up. Kelin has offered to foster Pertus."

She nodded. "What does Pertus think?"

John shrugged. "I actually haven't asked him about it yet, but he seems to like Kelin well enough. I think it'll be okay."

"It'll be hard on him at first," she pointed out quietly.

He nodded. "I know. But, he belongs there, and I…" he smiled, "I belong here."

She smiled. "Yes, you do."

John's reply was derailed as Carson walked up to both of them. "Am I interrupting?"

"Carson, no, not at all," Elizabeth replied.

"How's Myella?" John asked immediately.

Carson smiled. "She'll be fine. The hypothermia was a bit of a problem at first, but her core temp is coming up nicely now. She didn't sustain any other injuries. Bloody lucky if you ask me, considering the rocks, river and current…." He grinned. "She's awake if you'd like to talk to her."

John smiled, his expression relieved. "Yeah, I would."

"First, let's take a look at that arm." Carson grabbed John's wrist and lifted his arm. His gaze followed the path of the burns. "Ach, that must've hurt," he commented absently as he poked gently, drawing an involuntary hiss from John.

John winced as Carson probed again, and nodded. "Didn't have much choice, Doc."

Carson sighed and smiled slightly. "Aye. It's not too serious, but I want you to keep it bandaged and dry at least for the next week. Change the bandage often, and come see me if it gets red, swollen or hot, all right? I know you're on the mainland, but I want to see ye if any of those symptoms occur, understood?" Carson's voice took on a no-nonsense tone.

"Don't worry, Doc, I'm, uh… coming back to Atlantis. So, I'll be close by for you to poke, prod and pester." John arched an eyebrow at Carson.

Carson glanced at Elizabeth, before looking back to John. He was unfazed by John's good-natured ribbing. "Are ye now?" He smiled. "Glad to hear it." He grabbed some bandage materials and set to wrapping John's arm. "I wouldn't have to pester ye if ye were an agreeable patient, Major."

John arched his brows, conceding the point, and silently smiled at Elizabeth.

She shook her head. "Carson? Keep me posted."

"Aye." Carson answered, never looking up at her.

"Major?" Elizabeth smiled at John, "come see me when you can. We have half a dozen things to go over to get you caught up on what's going on around here."

John sighed. "Right. Do me a favor? Call the mainland and let them know what's going on? Maybe send a Jumper to bring Myella's parents here? The last they heard, we were headed to Atlantis." John snapped his fingers. "Oh, and if you could ask Halling if its okay that Pertus stays with him tonight, that'd be great. Tell him I owe him one."

Elizabeth nodded. "Will do." She turned away, allowing a full smile at the banter between John and Carson that followed her out.

"Ow!"

"For someone who put up with getting this injury in the first place, you're awfully sensitive, Major," Carson shot back.

John's reply was lost to Elizabeth as the infirmary doors closed behind her. Giggling quietly, she headed for the command deck, her heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

------------------

John approached Myella's bed. He glanced at the monitor and IV bag that hung just behind it, before looking down at the Athosian girl. His smile warm, he stopped next to her bed. "Hi there."

Myella stared back at him, her expression somber, almost guilty.

His gaze narrowed. He grabbed a nearby stool. Holding his bandaged arm close, he sat down next to her. He stared intently at the silent girl. "What's wrong, Myella?" Concern flickered in him. "Do you feel okay?"

Slowly, she nodded. She swallowed hard as tears welled in her eyes. Her gaze fixed on his bandaged arm, as the tears spilled down her cheeks. "I am sorry." Her wavering voice was quiet.

John's sigh was sympathetic. "Hey, its okay." He lifted his arm slightly. "It's not as bad as it looks, really." He gently rested his arm on his lap and waited a moment, before speaking again. "Myella, look at me."

Myella reached up and wiped her wet cheeks before slowly looking at him.

He smiled slightly. "I'm just glad you're okay."

She bit her lower lip. "Because of me, you were injured. It is my fault."

He shrugged, and tried to keep things light. "Well, judging by your path to get out in the middle of the river in the first place, if Wex hadn't yelled and startled you, I'm betting you wouldn't have fallen in."

A flicker of pride showed through Myella's sorrow. "I would not have."

He smiled at her brief show of spirit. "Right." His gaze sobered. "But you shouldn't have run off like that, Myella. No matter what your problem is, running away doesn't help."

The spirit in her eyes fled, replaced with guilt. "I know that now. I am sorry."

He smiled. "I know." He shrugged. "No real harm done, and you learned something, that's the important part. Although," he arched his brows, "I imagine your parents and Kelin will have something to say about all of this."

She swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Listen to them though." John smiled tolerantly. "You put them through an awful lot. You owe them that much."

Myella bit her lower lip again as she considered his words, before she nodded slightly.

He reached up and brushed a piece of hair out of her face. "Good." He stood. "Try and get some sleep."

She nodded, her heavy eyelids drooping. She fought back for a moment and looked him straight in the eyes. "Thank you."

He took a moment to smile down at her. "You're welcome." He watched as the young girl succumbed to fatigue. His advice to her stuck in his head. _No matter what your problem is, running away doesn't help._ He chuckled quietly as he headed for the infirmary door. _I ought to know._

"Major?"

He turned, smiling, at Carson. "Doc?" He pointed at the exit doors. "I can go, right?"

Carson smiled. "Aye, but don't over do it, and watch that arm." He pointed at the bandaged arm and gave John a warning look.

John nodded. "Right. Will do, Doc." He looked at the sleeping Myella before looking back to Carson and smiling. "Thanks, Carson."

Carson returned the smile. "Aye, glad I could help."

John nodded and left the infirmary. As he started down the hallway, a thought occurred to him. Wet by his unexpected swim, he had shed his radio when he'd reached Atlantis. Feeling a little naked without one, he took a detour from the route to the command deck and headed to his quarters.

At the threshold, he passed his hand over the door crystal and smiled as the door opened. He walked inside, stopping next to his desk to turn on a lamp. The late afternoon sun filtered through the window and added more light to the room. He looked around, noticing that everything was as he'd left it. Not that it surprised him. But somehow the room felt different. He smiled, realizing how different a person he was now than the last time he'd stood there.

Crossing to the window, his brows arched in surprise at the small, green potted plant that patiently sat there. From the top, one dark purple flower bloomed, and John shook his head. Elizabeth had given him the plant, native from the mainland, a few months back, after complaining that his quarters were "sterile." He smiled. He never thought it would last more than a week with him, but surprisingly the little plant was hardy and had thrived despite his unintentional neglect. He stuck his finger in the pot, his surprise redoubling as he felt the moist soil. He'd been gone for two months. He'd expected to see the little plant long dead. Not only was it flourishing: it had been watered.

"Now, who did that?" he wondered aloud.

"Uh, that would be me."

Startled, John turned and stared straight at the uncomfortable expression on Rodney's face. "You?"

Rodney's discomfort intensified. "Yes, well, it all started rather innocently. I lent you one of my data pads, remember?"

John thought back then nodded. "Yeah, that was before…."

"Right." Rodney pointed at him, cutting off John's reply. "Well, I needed it, and you weren't here, so I came and got it."

"Wait, I have a sensor lock on my door. How…?"

"Please!" Rodney interrupted, "I can hack that in my sleep!"

John arched a suspicious eyebrow at Rodney, but said nothing.

"Look," Rodney walked into his quarters. "I came here for my data pad and noticed the plant looked a little wilted, so I gave it some water. I've been checking on it ever since." He shrugged as he walked over and stuck his finger in the pot. "Must be my sister's influence, she always did have a green thumb, unlike me. I look at something green and it wilts. Rather surprised this little guy is still alive." He shrugged again.

"Girl." John answered.

"What?" Rodney's tone was slightly annoyed.

"Eunice." John pointed at the plant. "_Her_ name is Eunice."

"Eunice?" Rodney's face squished in distaste. "Couldn't you come up with something better than that?"

"Hey!" John's tone turned indignant. "My grandmother's name was Eunice."

"Oh, right. Sorry." Rodney fidgeted slightly.

John smiled slightly. "Why didn't you just take it back to your quarters, instead of constantly breaking into mine?"

Rodney sighed loudly. "Haven't you been listening? I kill things like this!"

John chuckled. "So, you thought if you left it here, it stood a chance at living?"

"Exactly."

John absently brushed some dirt off the windowsill, his curiosity intensifying as Rodney fell silent. "Rodney? Did you want something?"

"Uh yeah, I guess I did." Rodney stammered.

John looked out the window and waited. Finally he arched an eyebrow at the uncomfortable scientist. "Out with it, McKay."

"Well I…." Rodney fidgeted again, before waving his hands between them. "Look, are we… okay?"

John's brows furrowed for a moment before his thoughts came together. He sighed and arched a cynical brow at Rodney. "Have we ever been 'okay'?"

"Right." Rodney sighed. "I mean, for us, you know, par for the course, are we…?"

"As far as I'm concerned," John interrupted Rodney's uncomfortable rambling, "yes, we are."

"Well, that's good because I never… I mean I wouldn't want to jeopardize…." Rodney sighed.

John had to fight to keep a smile off his face at Rodney's discomfort. "You didn't." He glanced sideways at Rodney. "Not by a long shot."

"Okay, because I think I may have, you know, stepped over the line some?"

John glanced at him. A cross between concern and discomfort, Rodney's expression held an anxious look. _He really is worried,_ John realized. He arched an eyebrow and chuckled. "Only your real friends will tell you when your face is dirty." He held Rodney's gaze for a long moment, before once again looking out the window and over the ocean.

"Sicilian proverb," McKay responded, as he leaned one hand on the windowsill, his eyes also fixed on the vast ocean.

This time, John's chuckle was louder. "Why doesn't it surprise me you know that?"

"Huh," Rodney grunted. "That's me. Font of useless trivia."

John grinned for a moment longer, before his smile faded. "Not useless," he said quietly. All humor gone from his face, he looked at Rodney, gratitude warming his eyes.

Looking a little uncomfortable, Rodney stared back for a moment, before he shifted his weight, fidgeting slightly.

John watched Rodney. Inwardly, he felt a surge of gratitude and he dwelled for a moment on how far their friendship had come in the months since they'd arrived in Atlantis. He turned away, walked over to his desk and grabbed his radio. He looked back at Rodney. "Look, I may not have realized it at the time…." He sighed. "What I'm trying to say is, thanks," he finished, quietly.

Rodney slowly turned, faced John, and smiled. Unexpected and unusual, genuine warmth permeated his features. "You're welcome, Ma... John."

John nodded once, his mind rebelling at hearing his own first name coming from Rodney's mouth. He quickly fitted the radio over his ear, turned and headed for the door, stopped only by the doctor's voice.

"Next time, I'll be sure to duck."

A wide grin split John's lips as he looked back into the predictable, arrogant face of Rodney McKay. "Next time, I'll swing faster," he shot back, feeling the familiar banter returning to their relationship.

Rodney snorted and crossed the room to join John as they walked out into the wide hallway. "You know? Physical violence is so idiotic. Hey!" he waved his hands vigorously, "I can't think of a snappy comeback, so I'll just hit you! How positively primitive!"

John shrugged. "Yeah, well it works. If I slug you hard enough in the jaw, you might shut up."

"Oh, how unimaginative," Rodney retorted.

--------------------------------

Elizabeth looked up, a smile slowly forming on her face as Rodney and John walked towards her office, both men absorbed in a verbal sparring match. She giggled quietly as John slung a curveball at Rodney, who deftly hit it back. She shook her head. She should've known those two would patch things up almost immediately. Her thoughts settled on the unexpected and unusual relationship between her military commander and her chief scientist. Never in a million years would she have guessed that either one of them would ever be able to do more than tolerate each other, but, as she'd watched them these last few months, she'd come to realize they had more in common than either would ever admit. She arched a brow as Rodney threw his hand in the air and turned away from John.

Elizabeth's gaze switched to John as he smiled smugly and walked the remaining distance to her office.

In the doorway, he stopped, leaned on the doorframe and grinned. "McKay's mad at me."

Elizabeth's brows arched. "Already? That didn't take long."

"Nope." He sauntered in, sat down and stared back at her. He eyed the data pad on her desk warily. "That for me?"

She leaned back in her chair. "Yes, but before you get too deep into that…" her voice trailed off, hesitation derailing her train of thought.

His gaze narrowed. "What?"

She sighed. "I'm glad you're back here, but I want you to still talk with Dr. Heightmeyer some more, okay?" She watched him closely.

He drummed his fingers on his thigh as he considered her words. Finally, he sighed and nodded. "Okay. I think I can do that."

She smiled. "Good." She pushed the data pad across the desk at him. "For you."

He arched his brow and grabbed the pad. Tapping a few keys his eyes widened. "What? Did you decide to map the entire galaxy while I was gone? There must be two dozen mission reports here!"

She smiled sweetly. "Is there a problem?"

"Beyond me feeling entirely NOT needed?" He arched his brows before he looked at her, amusement sparking in his eyes. "If I was any less secure, I might be insulted, Elizabeth."

She giggled. "Relax, Major, there are still lots of addresses in the database. You'll get your shot."

He grunted and stood. "If you'll excuse me, I have some reading to do." He flashed her a mock-irritated look and left her office.

She watched him go. His stride was easy and relaxed as he crossed the command deck and disappeared down the back stairs. She sighed contently. Sure, she'd be a fool to think everything was completely right with him again, but, deep inside, her gut told her he was at least on the road towards that goal, and as long as he was, as his friend, she was happy to travel it with him.

-------------------------------

John yawned and rubbed his eye with one hand, while keeping the other on the Jumper controls as it sped along low over the ocean on the way to the mainland.

"And you chew me out for letting go of the controls!"

Rodney's annoyed statement grabbed John's attention. He smiled cynically at him. "Who's the pilot here?"

"I thought you were," Rodney snapped. "What's next? 'Look ma! No hands?'" He waved his hands vigorously.

Giving one last rub to his tired eyes, John lowered his hand and grabbed the controls. "Happy now?"

"I was merely pointing out that you felt the need to snap at me for flying one handed…."

"Okay." John interrupted. "I get the point."

"What's the matter with you anyway?" Unfazed, Rodney questioned John. "Didn't you sleep last night?"

"I was up late trying to catch up on mission reports for the last two months," John muttered. "You all have been busy while I was gone."

Rodney smiled arrogantly. "Yes, well, never let it be said we can't function without you."

"Or you." John glared at Rodney. "I've half a mind to test that theory. I could leave you on the mainland to be a farmer for a while." He flashed Rodney the most serious look he could muster over his underlying amusement.

Rodney's mouth opened to reply, before he abruptly shut it and stared intently at John for a moment. "You wouldn't?"

John cocked a cynical eyebrow at him. "Try me."

Shooting one last scathing look at John, Rodney turned and immersed himself in data readings on his laptop.

John stared forward through the windshield, watching as the ocean sped by below them. Silently, he'd kind of hoped he would be alone on this trip, but Elizabeth had decided to kill two birds with one stone, and asked… okay, ordered John to take Rodney to the Ancient outpost while they were on the mainland so the doctor could upload the botanical database and bring it back to Atlantis.

John glanced at Rodney as the mainland coast came into view. "How about I drop you at the outpost, before I go to the settlement? Just radio me when you're done."

Rodney eyed him suspiciously. "And you'll come pick me up again?"

John arched a brow. "Yes, Rodney."

"Okay."

John banked left and turned the Jumper towards the mountains. Before long he was slowly descending into the small clearing that had become their landing site. Still largely overgrown, numerous Jumper landings had beat back some of the branches, and each landing was easier than the last.

As they settled to the ground, John reached over and tapped the release for the back hatch.

Three data pads and a padded laptop case in hand, Rodney walked down the back ramp. "This shouldn't take more than an hour or so."

John looked back at him. "Fine. Just radio me when you're done, and I'll come get you."

Rodney nodded, waved, and headed off into the woods as John closed the back hatch.

-----------------------

He carefully landed just outside the Athosian settlement. He smiled as he spotted Halling and Kelin crossing the meadow towards him, before he opened the back hatch and stepped out into the bright sunshine.

He rounded the back of the Jumper and walked towards the two Athosian men. His hand resting easily on his side arm, he nodded at them. "Halling, Kelin."

"Major," Halling nodded back. "Kelin wished to speak with you, but I wanted to offer my thanks for your assistance with Myella." His gaze settled on John's bandaged left arm. "I am sorry you were injured."

John shrugged. "It's no big deal, Halling, just a rope burn. And you're welcome. I'm glad I could help. Dr. Beckett told me to tell you he'll be releasing Myella tomorrow."

"That is good news," Halling smiled. He glanced at Kelin before nodding once at John. "Pertus is with Jinto and Wex. They are hunting small game not far from here. They will return soon." Halling turned away, leaving John and Kelin alone.

Feeling the keen silence, John slowly looked at Kelin. The Athosian man's expression was thoughtful.

"You are returning to Atlantis."

John's sigh was relaxed. He smiled. "Yeah, I think its time."

Kelin nodded slowly. "As do I." He started back towards the settlement, his pace slow as John fell in next to him. "You have come a long way, John," he offered quietly.

John nodded. He swiped a blade of tall grass and chewed on one end as he walked along with Kelin. "I had a lot of help." He stopped, his abrupt action not lost on Kelin, who faced him.

"John?" Kelin questioned.

Still chewing on the blade of grass, John turned his head and looked towards the Athosian settlement for a moment. He sighed, pulled the shoot of grass from his mouth, and looked back at Kelin. "Somehow, 'thank you' doesn't seem to be enough."

Wisdom radiated from Kelin's dark eyes as he cocked his head slightly. His smile was small. "You are welcome, John." He turned and once again headed for the settlement.

John watched him a moment before trotting to catch up. "Kelin, can I ask you something?"

Kelin chucked quietly. "By now, John, you should know the answer is yes, yet you keep asking."

John chuckled in return. "True."

"What is your question?" Kelin asked.

"How did you know?" The phrase tumbled from John's mouth.

"Know what, John?" Kelin continued walking, even though his voice was slightly confused.

John shrugged. "Everything. With me, I mean… and Pertus, and…" he sighed. "Everything."

Kelin nodded slowly. He stopped abruptly, and faced John.

John stared back, his eyes narrowing at Kelin's dark expression. "Kelin?"

"I saw in you the same pain that was within me, many years ago." Kelin responded quietly.

John's jaw dropped slightly. "You?"

Kelin drew in a deep breath and looked up at the cloudless sky for a moment before once again staring at John. "My own son was taken when he was but six years old… along with my wife."

John paled. He looked away, his mind reeling. Drawing in a deep breath, he looked back to Kelin. "I had no idea."

Kelin nodded. "There are two ways to handle loss, John. Neither way do you ever forget it. But you either accept it and go on with your life, or…" Kelin's voice took on a dark note of finality, "you do not." After a moment, his somber look was broke by a small smile. "I believe you have chosen the right path, John, as did I. Although we both almost did not choose that path." Kelin squeezed John's shoulder. "There is not a day that goes by where I do not remember those I have lost, yet I continue to live my life. I believe you have found a way to do the same." Letting go of John's shoulder, Kelin again headed towards the settlement.

John watched him go for a moment, his mind still reeling. Abruptly his thoughts settled on Kelin's words. A small smile formed on John's mouth, a renewed sense of acceptance flowing through him. He jogged after Kelin, quickly catching up to him.

Pulling in a deep breath, John smiled at Kelin. "I think Pertus will like living with you."

Kelin smiled. "As do I. I have grown fond of the boy, and he and Sorbus have become quite close. They will do well together."

John bit his lower lip hesitantly. "I just hope Pertus sees that."

Kelin nodded. "He will. It may be difficult for him at first, but he will see it eventually. The boy belongs here, just as you belong on Atlantis."

John chuckled and waved his hand dismissively at Kelin's questioning look. "Funny, I told Dr. Weir the same thing."

Kelin smiled and nodded. "Your instincts are correct then. Just tell Pertus everything, and let him see reason. It will be fine."

John nodded. In silence, he walked along with Kelin to the settlement, content with the quiet companionship.

---------------------------------

John's stride was purposeful as he left the settlement and walked down a narrow path towards the ocean. A small knot of nervousness lingered in his gut, as the ocean breeze brought a salty scent to his nose and the distant sound of crashing waves to his ears. The path meandered along, before straightening and following close to the edge of a steep cliff.

He took a moment to look out over the ocean and smiled slightly at the waves as they surged over the beach far below. He continued unhurriedly along the path, nodding to himself as two figures, perched on jagged rocks in the distance, slowly turned into two boys. They looked up as he reached them, their welcoming smiles fading as mild confusion overtook them.

John abruptly realized that his appearance in Atlantean clothing, complete with vest and side arm, was not the way either of them was used to seeing him. He smiled and nodded at the first boy. "Sorbus." His expression sobered. "Can you give Pertus and me some time alone?"

Pertus' look was hesitant as he stared at John, but John's reassuring smile settled the boy.

Sorbus slid off the rock. "I must do my chores anyway." Sorbus grimaced slightly.

John's expression took on a mock serious tone. "You better get going then." He smiled as the boy nodded.

"Bye Pertus!" Sorbus stepped around John and ran down the path back towards the settlement.

Taking Sorbus' place, John slowly sat down on the rock next to Pertus. His feet set wide apart, he rested his arms on his thighs, his hands hanging loosely between his knees. He arched an eyebrow at Pertus. "You like the ocean?"

"I had never seen so much water until I came here." Pertus' voice was quiet. "Palla did not have this."

John smiled at him. "It did. Just a long way from where you lived."

"Oh."

John again gazed at the ocean. He rubbed his chin, as he tried to find a way to tell Pertus what he needed to hear. "How do you like Kelin?"

"He is very nice to me," Pertus answered quietly, "I have learned a lot from him."

John nodded. "And Sorbus?"

A smile lit Pertus' face. "He is my friend."

John fell silent again. No matter what way his mind approached the topic, there wasn't a good way to say it. Pulling in a deep breath, John plunged forward. "I'm returning to Atlantis, Pertus." He glanced at the boy and saw Pertus drop his head and swallow hard.

"I may not go back with you." Pertus' words lacked any questioning.

John pursed his lips and shook his head slightly. "You don't belong there, Pertus, any more than I belong here."

"I do not want you to go, John," Pertus whispered.

John felt his brow wrinkle at the plea he heard in Pertus' tone. Scooting over until he was next to Pertus, he wrapped his arm tightly around the boy. "I'll come visit you. A lot. I won't be far away."

Pertus' hands tightened on John's vest. "What about me?"

John smiled at him. "Kelin has asked if you would like to live with him and Sorbus." John cocked his head and made eye contact with Pertus. "Would you like that?"

Pertus bit his lip for a moment before nodding. He smiled slightly at John.

John smiled back. "Kelin will take good care of you, Pertus. He cares a lot about you. Then there's Jinto, and Wex, and Myella will be back soon. Charin and Laonid…. Then there's Korban and all the Pallans. They're all going to live here too. I think you're going to like it here… a lot."

Pertus nodded. Fear found its way into his expression and he tightened his grip on John. "What about the Wraith?" his voice shook slightly.

John's gaze sobered as he pulled Pertus closer. "I won't let the Wraith hurt you, Pertus, or anyone here. They don't know about us, but if they ever come, Atlantis isn't far away." John's expression turned reassuring and confident as he again made eye contact with Pertus. "We'll protect you, and everyone here, I promise."

Against his vest, John felt Pertus' silent nod. After a long moment, the boy pulled away, and John released his hold.

Pertus slowly smiled, the fear and pain leaving his face. "I'm going to be a hunter," he said confidently.

John grinned back. "I'll bet." He reached out, ruffling the boy's hair briefly. "And I will come visit, I promise." He put his hand on Pertus' shoulder. "Go tell Kelin you want to stay with him. I'm sure he'll be happy to hear it. So will Sorbus." Pertus stood, and John pulled his hand away, but Pertus just stood there, looking at him. "Go on," John urged.

Abruptly, Pertus threw both his arms around John's neck and held on tightly.

John smiled as he returned the embrace for a moment, before the boy pulled away. Stepping over the rocks, Pertus found the path and took off down it's winding course.

John watched him go, shaking his head at the energy. A memory came back to him, but for the first time in a long while, John embraced its effect.

_John watched as Pertus raced over the well-tilled Pallan field towards him. _

"_Major Sheppard!" The boy's high tenor voice reached him. Pertus stumbled hard, but caught himself and continued his headlong dash towards John…._

John smiled. He hadn't seen that carefree spring in Pertus' step since before the destruction of Palla. He realized that, somewhere along the way he'd helped the boy in more ways than he'd ever realized. Contentment swept through him, its warmth bringing him peace.

A cool, ocean breeze whipped up from below him, and caressed his face. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, relishing the fresh air and the tranquility he felt for the first time in a long while. He tipped his head back, allowing the warm sun to bathe his face. He'd endured so much pain and heartache in the last couple months, and somewhere along the way, he'd lost touch with himself. But, with experience, time and the help of some good friends, perspective had returned to him. No longer did his thoughts linger on the people he'd lost, but now they focused on the people he'd saved, the ones he'd helped… the lives he'd made a difference in.

Bittersweet, his memories of Brianor filled him with a warm melancholy.

"_Do not lose yourself to pain, John."_

He smiled. Genuine, relaxed… fond, his smile warmed him. He hadn't lost himself, although a few times he had come close. But, somewhere along the way, he had found more of himself then he knew was there, and in many ways had come through this with a better understanding of himself, and a greater wisdom for life.

Inhaling deeply, he turned and headed back for the Athosian settlement.

-------------------------------

He stood on the edge of the Athosian settlement, his pack slung loosely over his shoulder. He smiled at the group of people that stood before him. His sight turned first to the boys he'd helped mentor. "Stay out of trouble, you guys," he joked quietly. He knelt as they all gathered close around him. "Whoa, easy!" He braced himself, trying to keep from falling over as they milled around and bumped into him.

"Come back to visit?" Wex's question was echoed by each boy.

John grinned. "Yeah, I'll be back." He tousled Wex's hair briefly, and made eye contact with each boy. "Pay attention to Kelin," John paused and looked up at Kelin before looking back down at the boys. "He can teach you a lot." He stood and looked straight into the eyes of Charin.

John sighed, his small smile warm. "You remind me of my grandmother," he commented quietly, a deep respect filling his expression. He grabbed her hand and kissed the knuckles lightly. He stared intently at her. "Thank you."

Charin brought her other hand up and squeezed his. "You are welcome, John. You are welcome in my tent at any time."

John nodded. "I'll take you up on that, I promise." He released her hand and moved on.

He looked into the strong but warm expression on Halling's face. He shook his head, not really knowing what to say. "Thanks."

Halling's expression was knowing as he nodded back. "Go safely, Major."

John nodded. "And you." Slowly, John turned and stared silently at Kelin. Speechless, he let the silence between them linger.

Kelin smiled. "We have already spoken of this, my friend. You need not say more."

John shook his head. He reached out, taking Kelin's forearm in a strong grip. "Kelin, I can't…."

"Then do not," Kelin interrupted. His expression was wise and knowing as he stared John in the eye. "Words are not needed, John."

John stared back, and in an instant, knew Kelin was right. A deep respect filled him as he nodded slowly at Kelin and released his arm.

Pertus stepped around from behind Kelin and looked up at John. "Visit me too?"

John knelt. "You bet." He spread his arms and Pertus instantly embraced him. "Be good, and mind Kelin." John pulled away and stood. He smiled at Pertus as Kelin placed one hand on the boy's shoulder. He stepped back and inhaled deeply.

"Go safely, John," Kelin smiled.

John nodded back. "And you." He turned and started across the wide grassy field, his stride gaining confidence as he made his way to the Jumper.

------------------------------

"Got a minute?"

Elizabeth looked up and smiled, motioning John into her office. "Sure." Her gaze narrowed at the small, wrapped box he held in front of him as he approached her desk. Her gaze lingered on the box for a moment, before she again looked up at his face. She felt relief deep inside her at his easy and relaxed expression. The marks of tension that had lined his face since his rescue were gone, replaced with the easy-going expression she had grown to know so well. "Everything wrapped up on the mainland?"

He smiled. "Yeah, it's all good." He stopped in front of her desk and placed the box before her. "This is for you."

She furrowed her brows, but still smiled as she eyed the package. "What is it?" She looked up, her smile widening as he cocked a mischievous eyebrow at her.

"You'll see. Just open it."

She reached out, lifted the lid and peeked inside. She gently folded back the dried grasses that served as cushioning, her actions freezing as she stared at what lay within. Carefully, she lifted an elegant Athosian vase from the box. She smiled as she turned it gently in her hand. Intricate carvings spanned the circumference of the vase. The clay surface felt smooth under her soft grasp, and had been dyed a rich, deep shade of red. She looked up at John, her smile grateful. "It's beautiful, thank you."

He pursed his lips and smiled, a touch of regret crossing his face. "I uh... figured I owed you one."

She carefully laid the vase back in its box before gracing him with an understanding nod. "You don't owe me anything, John, but I appreciate the thought."

He quirked an eyebrow. "You're welcome."

She watched as he turned and headed for the door, only to pause after a few steps. He slowly turned back, his expression sober.

I'm... sorry. For everything." He pursed his lips and held her gaze.

She stared back at his uncomfortable, almost nervous expression. She drew in a deep breath, before slowly letting it out. "Don't be." She smiled warmly, allowing understanding to dominate her expression. She watched as John relaxed, a smile slowly forming on his face. He nodded once at her and silently left her office.

She watched him go, a warm relief spreading through her. Things felt right to her, and she relished the effect. For the first time in a long while, a genuinely happy grin spread across her face as she watched him disappear down the back staircase. Her heart light, she returned to her desk.

--------------------------

"Defend yourself."

John straightened, lowered his sticks and wrinkled his brow at Teyla. "I always hate it when you say that."

She arched one eyebrow. "Major?"

He grimaced. "It usually means I'm gonna get my ass kicked," he muttered.

Her expression turned slightly bemused. "Indeed."

"You didn't have to agree so easily," His voice was indignant. He sighed and lifted his sticks. "Ready when you are." He assumed a defensive stance as Teyla swiftly attacked him. Repelling her blows, his reflexes carried him through the spar. He held his own, countering each of her attacks, until Teyla stepped back and stared intently at him.

"Your skills have greatly improved, Major."

John smiled smugly. "Blame Kelin." He twirled one stick easily. "Gonna give you a run for your money now."

"Run for…?"

"Never mind," he interrupted. He raised his defenses and arched his brows confidently at her.

She stared dryly back and was still… an instant before her furious attack almost got past his defenses.

Backpedaling, he barely warded off her blows. Stepping under her attack, he spun and struck back, only to find her defensive block. She struck at him, a move he parried, before bringing his stick around and striking back. His stick met the soft flesh of her thigh with a resounding smack.

Stunned, he stepped back and stared at her as she grimaced at the sting. Sure she was okay, he smiled broadly. "Hey! That's the first time I've got you!" He kept his grin, despite her neutral expression.

"It is," she affirmed quietly. "I am not familiar with that move." Her gaze narrowed. "Nor did I expect it."

He waggled his brows. "I made it up."

Teyla stared back, a thoughtful look on her face. "Your confidence has returned, Major."

His expression sobered. "Yeah," he nodded, "I guess it has."

She lifted her sticks and circled him.

Confidence in his skills returning. his posture turned defensive as he watched her warily. Her attack came swiftly and again, he parried each of her blows. He countered a shot to his midsection but, before he could react, Teyla stepped inside his guard. A moment of dread found him, but before he could consider a counter attack, he felt his feet swept out from under him. Hitting the floor hard, he grimaced as he stared at the ceiling. "Damn." He turned his head and looked at Teyla.

Her expression was neutral, but hints of amusement colored it. "That move is my creation."

John rolled over and up onto his knees. He stared up at her, his expression slightly crestfallen. "Yep. Gonna get my ass kicked."

---------------------------------

Elizabeth looked up from her report, her eyes settling on the relaxed expression of John Sheppard, once again sitting across from her at the conference room table. Slowly, she smiled, her expression warming. Only a few months had passed, but it had been too long. Too long had his seat been empty, or filled with a different John Sheppard than the one she had come to rely on. Her gaze must've turned reflective, because a corner of John's mouth turned up in a wry, knowing smile. He nodded once, as if he knew what she was thinking.

Elizabeth had the decency to blush slightly. She looked away briefly, before her eyes once again found his. She nodded slightly, and pulled in a deep breath as Rodney, Aiden and Teyla walked into the conference room. "Rodney?" Elizabeth smiled at the Canadian doctor. "What's on the agenda for today?"

_**Author's Notes**_

_I'd like to send out a huge thanks to SandySheppard, MindDweller, Wraithette, TanaquiSGA and Mgosche. Without your encouragement and support I don't know if I would've ever finished this story. Thank you for being a sounding board for my ideas, brainstorming, tolerating my bellyaching when things weren't going so well, offering your honest opinions and just being supportive (even if it meant giving me a kick in the butt to get going! ;) ) Thanks for all your insights on Sheppard and for the interesting conversations we had about him! ((Hugs!!))_

_I'd also like to thank Erinmore, Jedi40, Prmess and LavenderBlue. Thank you so much for all your help and encouraging words!_

_SGAFan_


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